


Home at last (Redux)

by Sorscha



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: An eventual smattering of smut, Existing Relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 84
Words: 173,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9381833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorscha/pseuds/Sorscha
Summary: Re-write of the original version. Different first meeting and relationship dynamics and I finally found a way to shoe-horn a bit of Merle in there - Yay!!!There are two people alive in this world for whom childhood was a dangerous, precarious, frightening place. For whom life has never been easy and relationships always strained and unnatural things. Having connected, against the odds and then been torn apart by civilization falling around them. How will they react when they meet each other again.One of them has survived on a deep well of anger and pain, found a family, of sorts, and begun to try and put his past behind him and learn to let people in. The other has dropped the pretense she'd built up before the world went to shit and now she is as detached and self-reliant as he used to be. What happens when these two meet? Can two misshapes fit together and face the world as a better, stronger, complete whole? Can they find, in each other, a place to call home at last?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A bit more background for Kit in this version. This was always her background, I just hadn't put it in anywhere in the previous version. If anyone's read the previous version, let me know what you think to this and I'd be open to any suggestions for directions this re-write can take.

The town was pretty barren. Looked like it’d been hit early and hard. Everything of any great obvious worth had been lifted months ago but that never meant that it wasn’t worth a look. A group of scavengers would arrive in a vehicle, spread out, hit the high-value targets and go before it got too dark or they drew too much attention from the dead. A lone scavenger could afford not to be arsed with big obvious targets. A lone scavenger could take their time, do a block of apartments in a day, a row of suburban houses the next. They could take the time to check a phone directory and find the post depot or rinky dink, small practice vets, doctors and dentists. It took longer but who gives a shit when you’re not in a hurry.

Kit knew it was better by far to take the time and avoid the obvious targets. Largely because it also meant avoiding other people. The dead were easy. It had always been the living she’d had trouble with, even before day one of this messy new world.

If she’d been anyone else, she might have been crushed when the old world fell apart. To be here, more than three thousand miles from the place she had always called home. That might have sent her insane if she’d had family, if she’d had anything but middling friendships, if she’d even had a cat or something that might remotely actually miss her.

She had none of that. Home was more than likely just as fucked over by the dead as it was here. It would probably have fallen quicker, being more built up. It would’ve been like the cities here. New York, L.A., Dallas, Atlanta. Once the shit hit the fan in those close quarters it hadn’t been a matter of days or weeks to really feel the effects, like it had been out here in the sticks. They’d all fallen, beyond recovery, in a matter of hours. 

Kit often wondered how those friends she did care about had got along. Most of the ones she’d really gotten to know, the ones she’d allowed in a little wherever she’d found them in the world, lived out in the country. She’d gravitated to the country and become an ‘outdoorsy’ type, since the stupid ‘orphan-pity-retreat’ the council had paid for, when she was fourteen. She’d loved it, from the second she got off the bus she’d felt more at home than her entire life up to that point. She’d gotten to know the owner and his wife, the manager, some of the instructors. She’d kept in touch. Christmas cards, the occasional letter. She hadn’t wanted to let them forget her. 

At sixteen she’d been ‘transitioned’ out of care and she’d written to them straight away. She wanted to learn, she’d said and she did. She wanted to learn everything they had to teach her. She’d never had any use for anything much they’d taught her at school, nor any of the ‘life lessons’ she’d got in any of the homes. She wanted to learn from them though. Whatever they could teach her and she’d work her arse off while she did it, she promised. And they’d taken her up on the offer.

She’d spent five years at the farm complex; working, learning and eventually teaching in her turn. By the time she left you’d have been hard pressed to tell her apart from the locals who’d been born and bred to it all, all their lives.

Next had been working as a head Ghillie, up in Scotland, for a fledgling estate. Then, while she was still young enough to qualify for working visas, working on ranches in Australia, New Zealand and South Africa. She made enough of an impression to be invited back, sponsored for more work whenever she needed a change of pace. 

She was versatile, practical, strong and stoic. She had the stamina to do whatever needed doing and the brains and initiative and eventually the experience, to know what that was. She’d somehow crafted herself into the perfect survivor of the shit-storm of a world she found herself in now. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

Most of those she knew and cared about before, would have had some time to see the way the wind had blown and they were all pretty handy, sensible people. Most had access to weapons, guns even in a lot of cases. They might well be alright. Maybe not alright. Alive though. She hoped that at least some of her friends had been as lucky as she had and were still around to wish they weren’t. 

She’d never know for sure though. Because she’d been here, well – in Texas to be specific. Babysitting a corporate boondoggle. An adventure course for a bunch of yuppie arse-wipes, who thought they were Rambo because their uncle took them hunting once and they owned a fucking AK47. Even the ‘Adventure Leader’ and his side-kick were prize prats. Dicks the lot of them. And when the shit hit the fan that’s who she’d been stuck with.

As far as she knew those nob-heads were still alive and kicking but she was pretty sure she’d made the right decision by ditching them when she did. She hadn’t liked the way some of them looked at her before the world turned to shit and was pretty sure the other women in the group would have regretted turning their noses up at the thought of joining her and striking out on their own, within weeks.

The next group had been a better mix. Less dickheads with egos the size of a bus and more level heads to balance out the ones that were there. Unfortunately, nice people turned out to be a bit useless in a world that really required back-to-basics survival-mode thought processes and skill sets. It had been jarring to see some members of the group totally check out of any degree of even self-defence, never mind protection of the whole group.

She wouldn’t have trusted half of them to guard her when she slept and didn’t. She’d slept one night in three, the entire time she’d been with them and then only because she had the added reassurance of the dog at her side. She still hadn’t been full grown at that point but she was an early warning system at least.

When they’d made the group decision to settle down at a promising and defensible train terminal building, she’d been happy enough. When they made the decision to invite other survivors to join them by advertising their existence throughout the surrounding area, she’d made her mind up before the meeting was even half way through. 

She hoped, for the kids’ sakes that it worked out for them but she was pretty bloody sure it wouldn’t. She didn’t say any goodbyes, just packed up her kit and pissed off. One or two had tried to talk her out of it. She hadn’t wasted her breath trying to convince anyone to come with her. She’d put across her opinion at the meeting as forcefully as she could but none of them had experienced a group dynamic like her previous bunch. They expected everyone to be like them; plucky little survivors trying to make the best of a bad situation and helping each other get through it all. 

“Good luck!” she’d said and meant it “You’ll need it.”

Since then she’d decided not to bother with groups again, if she could avoid it and get herself organised. It was stupid, she knew but she’d wanted to be closer to home, so she’d already headed east for so long. She knew 3000 miles of ocean might as well be the moon and that the moon would probably be a damn sight safer prospect, than home at this juncture but sometimes your brain is just stupid like that, so she continued to meander vaguely eastwards but mostly north, just to get away from the ridiculous searing heat.

She’d equipped herself well and left caches of vehicles, weapons and supplies secreted discretely in strategic spots all over the southern states. She’d picked all the little towns she came across clean. She was well practiced at this and was always careful to recce the area first for groups and possible hazards. She was rarely surprised on these raids.

Garvey was the name of this particular blot on the landscape. 5,500 people according to the sign on the way in (although the sign looked like it had been there a serious while), ‘Drive carefully.’ It’d said. “Yep!” she thought, “I certainly will, thanks for the hint.”

After two full days of prep and planning, she’d parked up the landy in the most inconspicuous suburban garage she could find on the edge of town, done the rest of that street the same day and secured the least promising looking house for that night’s rest. Standard operating procedure – and it worked.

As long as you were quick and quiet the burbs were always easy. The dead here were invariably few and far between, as most of them tended to congregate around the main routes through towns. The places that the living, in their bigger, noisier groups were more likely to pass through.

She’d found a phone book and a street map in the house where the landy was garaged and had sat down to make a plan of action that night. She chose the walk in wardrobe of the master bedroom. Big enough to drag a single mattress in and make it comfortable but no windows, so she could just shut the door and pour over the possibilities after dark, without attracting company.

She’d been here four days and was pretty sure there was at least another day or so before she was ready to call it quits and make a move. She might even take a day off and rest a bit. It’s not like she had to be anywhere. She’d found some useful bits and pieces here that had eluded her in other towns. Garvey had been good to her so far and she thought it had a little more to give. The resources she’d gathered would give her some breathing space. She’d found enough drugs for some trading with Hilltop maybe. The landy could do with some repairs and their smith was a pretty useful mechanic too by all accounts. She was sure she’d have enough to barter for what she needed. She’d never for a second consider staying with them, as 'Jesus' had asked her to more than once, but they weren’t bad people and they respected trade.

Sitting on the big oaken desk of some local big-wig, eating tomato soup straight out of the can for lunch, Kit looked out across the streets below and noticed something odd.

She wasn’t sure which direction he’d come in from but he was heading through the centre of town by the looks of it, quick and quiet, with no interest in anything around him. He looked suspiciously like he was tracking something. He was limping ever so slightly and looked like he’d been in the wars but if what she’d heard about him was half true he may have looked like that for the whole of the past three years and today was just another day.

She’d heard of him from Hilltop. One of the Alexandria crew. The leader was some local cop or sheriff or whatever they had in little towns here (Dick? Rick? Nick?) but this guy had been picked out as one of the leaders too. Maybe not a leader. Maybe just one of the more useful members of the community. He’d rated a mention anyway and the idea of a crossbow wielding redneck had caught her attention. 

She’d recognised him from the description immediately. Someone could have had a similar winged jacket (or stolen his) but that and the crossbow and the hair and the tracking skills. Had to be the same guy. Now she saw him in the flesh though, she wished she’d been a little more curious with Paul when he’d first mentioned him. She wished she’d asked his name. She knew that man… she could almost swear to it, if he’d just stand still for two seconds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small linking chapter. As I'm going away later this week I'll post another, much longer chapter later. Probably on Tuesday evening.

She’d been following at a distance for ten minutes now and it was pretty clear that he was having a bad day. The leg wasn’t slowing him down much but it seemed to be a fairly fresh injury and he was in some pain with it. He was very focussed, far too focussed to notice her stealthy shadowing of his movements, but he was clearly tracking something or somebody. 

She’d heard a passing car as she’d reached into her bag for the tomato soup. She’d missed seeing it go by but it could only have been a couple of minutes ahead of him. Maybe that was the quarry here. If so, he was unlikely to catch up on foot, unless they’d stopped nearby and why would they? Garvey was dead in every sense.

She watched him with interest as he passed the gated yard on the edge of town. He’d slowed and stopped his quest for a moment to take it in. Kit had found it on her first full day out and had avoided that side of town ever since. 20-30 children, shuffling back and forth, frothing at the mouth and reaching out, as they clocked her movement. "Sadder than a sad thing on a miserable Sunday afternoon," as one of her foster parents liked to say, she forgot the name.

He hardly missed a beat. Took out his knife and put each one of them out of their misery. There was a funereal respect to his efficiency of movement, she thought. She’d have liked him instantly for those kids alone. She’d wanted to do the same herself – would have done so herself, tomorrow or the next day maybe, before she left. It didn’t do to advertise ones presence to the living by offing ALL of the dead on day one, unless there was an urgent need to. He hadn’t had that concern though, as far as he knew he was alone in town and wouldn’t be back this way but he’d taken the time to provide this small mercy. 

She was a hundred feet or more away but she could almost see the thought cross his mind. “Should I just check if there’s any gas or propane or something in that shop?” If he’d had the time to spare she was sure he’d have done it, as she herself had planned to. She’d left four cans of propane by the door for just that purpose. Whatever his mission was she saw it override his natural inclination. He’d done all he had time for.

It had started out as her just wanting to be sure she knew where he was. She’d follow to keep eyes on, until he was out of her town and then return to the day’s work. That had been the plan. And she knew now that she’d been kidding herself from the start.

The more she watched, the more she knew for sure. She could see how he ticked. He was good, quick, efficient, knew his shit and knew how to focus on the task at hand. She found herself wondering what had him so transfixed, so single-minded. Why was he stalking whatever or whoever he was stalking?

Whatever the answers to those questions were, it hardly mattered. That wasn’t why she was still following him. She was following him because she’d seen a ghost. The ghost of Daryl Dixon. It couldn’t be anyone else. She’d only known him for a few days and it had been three years ago now but she’d know that man anywhere. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will be a flash back. Feel free to speculate if you like but the chapter is written and other than proofing it I won't be changing how Kit knows Daryl. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit shorter than I planned because I split this section up into three, instead of two, chapters in the end. I'll post part two sometime over the weekend and follow up with part three a few days later. It's a big flashback - sorry.
> 
> There's not much of Merle in this section but there's lots of Merle-fun coming in part three :)

Three years earlier…

Merle was a ‘character’ that’s for sure. Scott hadn’t misrepresented him in any way. He wasn’t stupid though. Kit had noticed the two ‘leaders’ dismissing him as such. She felt like they were laughing at both him and her as they introduced them, exchanging sly, knowing looks with each other as they did so. 

They expected him to leer and exhibit some kind of lechery, or to make some dumb ‘hick’ remark about her accent. They expected her to balk at shaking hands with a man who personified the moniker ‘redneck’ that they’d just spent five minutes needlessly explaining to her in the car. For some reason, everyone she’d ever met abroad, seemed to assume that ‘British’ was just another word for posh. They were wrong to think so. From their description, most of the people she'd grown up with, or ever got along with in her whole life, would've fit in the 'redneck' category.

Kit didn’t care what anyone else thought. She looked Merle in the eye, ignored the expectations of the others and offered her hand. “Good to meet you Mr. Dixon, I’m glad you were able to help us out for this trip.” 

She noted that he was mildly taken aback, as he took her hand, not to be treated like some kind of ingrate, or looked at like something she’d stepped in. He returned her firm shake and did her the courtesy of looking her back in the eye (as opposed to the direction his gaze had taken while they’d been walking over) and meeting her intelligent eyes with his own wily look of assessment and understanding. “Scott told us you were the best men for the job in these parts.”

“Weh-hell-now, that boy sure knows his shit, don’t he.” Merle began, seemingly thankful for the opening and more than happy to provide a barnstorming resume of his prowess and skills, for the receptive audience of the other men and women in the small party of people who’d arrived already. 

As Merle progressed through his patter, Kit’s attention began to wander. Merle was far more interested in ‘bigging himself up’ to the boys than he was in impressing her. He’d written her off already. Too smart to fall for his shit. Not pretty or easy enough to be worth the effort of trying to win around.

As Merle began some bullshit tale, about surviving the most unlikely sounding scrape, Kit noticed another man coming over to the truck, ladened with gear, which he progressed to pack away in the tailgate.

He was younger than Merle by several years but looked just as tough a character as Merle professed to be. He had a quiet, efficient manner and didn’t seem remotely interested in his brother’s blustering or the strangers he was holding court with. He’d hardly raised his gaze at all since exiting the store.

Kit liked him on sight. He seemed like a loner. Self-sufficient. She liked that very much. She was that way herself and she appreciated it in others. Hopefully this was Merle’s brother Daryl. It would be good to have at least one person in the group that she could rely on to pay attention, do what they said they were going to and not just talk constant bollocks just for the sake of it. She was usually pretty good at sizing people up on first impressions and hoped she was right about this one.

She’d tried to be subtle with her observations but as he closed the tailgate, the man looked up and straight into her eyes, during one of her fleeting glances his way. She hated being embarrassed and knew that Merle would capitalise in an instant if he noticed her, looking ‘caught off guard’, staring at his brother. She used the noise of the tailgate slamming as cover for jumping in before anyone but the man himself caught her awkwardness at being startled by his blue gaze.

“Oh!” she began, stepping towards the rear of the truck “You must be Daryl?” she asked, with a friendly smile, extending her hand toward him in greeting. The others barely acknowledged her moving away. Merle was in full flow and nothing short of an attack by a wild bear would have derailed his tall tale, or broken up their little party, at this point.

Daryl looked a little thrown but nodded, wiped his hand on his sleeveless shirt and took the offered hand. 

The hand was strong but the shake was gentle and he met her gaze briefly during the contact. Withdrawing his hand he suddenly seemed at a loss for what to do next, awkwardly shifting his weight and crossing his arms over his chest, tucking his hands protectively against their opposite sides. 

“Kit, right?” he asked with a gruff rasp that sounded like the voice of a man really not that used to speaking.

“Yeah.” She responded, equally stuck for what to say next but determined to carry on regardless. “Is that all the gear?”

“Nah.” He indicated the store with his thumb “There’s another crate of supplies for your truck if you got room?”

“OK, I’ll give you a hand.” She nodded decisively, turning towards the store. “Looks like your brother and the guys have far too much to discuss to help out.” They both glanced in the direction of Merle’s little congregation and allowed themselves a derisive little laugh at their expense.

“Can’t tell who’s the bigger dumbass.” He exclaimed, shaking his head and leading Kit back to the store to collect the last crate. “The loudmouth spinnin’ the yarn…”

“Or the dickheads getting reeled in.” She finished the sentence for him, as they turned together towards the store, both shaking their heads.

And that was it. She had an ally, a kindred spirit on this stupid, waste of time, corporate boondoggle that would be her life for the next week. Someone else, as capable as she was (if not more so) and tolerant of but in no way sucked in or impressed by, the idiots that surrounded them.

Unlike some of the well-meaning but unintentionally patronising, or just downright openly sexist, men around him; right from that first moment Daryl had accepted her as an equal partner. Not that he let her do all the heavy lifting but when she offered to help, or took a job voluntarily, he never argued that she should let a man do that for her. If she was willing to do it and said she could, he’d just let her get on with it. 

He also listened to her point of view, at the group meetings and had an uncanny ability to, not only back her up himself, when he agreed with her but also the ability to subtly sway the others, while allowing them to think their change of heart was their own idea. Machiavelli could have learned a thing or two from Daryl. Kit wasn’t even sure if he consciously knew he was doing it but whatever course of action he thought was correct, he’d somehow manage to steer the others towards it eventually. He never said much but when he did, his words carried weight. He had sway, she just wasn’t entirely sure he realised it.

Kit guessed that much of Daryl’s natural quietness stemmed from being overshadowed by his loudmouth brother, who she was sure had dragged Daryl into more than his own fair share of trouble over the years. Merle was a prolific drinker and Kit noted some tell-tale signs that he was recovering from dependence on more pervasive drug addictions. He had an addictive personality, full stop. Obviously addicted to stimulants of all varieties, including attention (good and bad) and the sound of his own voice.

Daryl didn’t share those genes. He was observant, discreet and careful in all instances, not just in the woods. He was one of the most naturally gifted huntsmen Kit had ever had the pleasure to see in action. He put her own tracking skills to shame but he didn’t brag, didn’t show up his far less skilled brother, or anyone else. He just got on with things and let his actions and his prowess speak for themselves.

He didn’t really seem to notice or value the kudos of others, especially the idiots around them now. He didn’t look for company or conversation and barely even voluntarily spoke to his own brother, other than to discuss practical concerns. 

They obviously had a strong familial bond. Daryl put up with a lot of degrading chat from his ‘schoolyard bully’ of a brother. Occasionally the mild verbal abuse would turn physical but it was always just sibling carousing. There was some kind of underlying tension between them, that Kit couldn’t quite put her finger on but Merle never pushed Daryl’s patience too far. Kit had to imagine that he knew better. He wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He knew he needed Daryl more than Daryl needed him, even if he liked to pretend, loudly, that it was the other way around. 

Kit was naturally far closer to Daryl’s own temperament herself but had done her best to play well with the others. It was exhausting sometimes but ultimately made her life easier if she made an effort to be sociable. Everyone had accepted and eventually come to recognise Kit’s worth in the group but the others had come to respect Daryl much more quickly, despite his taciturn personality. 

It only took a day or two for everyone in camp to realise who talked the talk and who was actually getting things done around here. When they wanted to learn, they all watched Daryl. Something Daryl himself seemed hardly aware of, although his brother noticed and visibly resented it. To his credit, Merle didn’t usually take it out on Daryl but the resentment lead to more drinking and a shorter fuse when he felt in any way slighted by anyone else.

As entertaining as observing the Dixon dynamics in the group was, Kit made it a policy to avoid being stuck with Merle on any excursions out of camp. Luckily her skill sets leant themselves more to teaching basic survival skills and supporting hunting parties. As one of the more experienced hunters she could usually choose her own group but just wasn’t familiar enough with the area to lead. She usually stuck with Ryan, who was far less of a prat than most of the other ‘leaders’ or Daryl, when he and his brother were taking a timeout from each other, who was by far the best hunter and tracker and presented her with no stress at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your likes/dislikes and I'll try to incorporate if I have time before I post the next sections.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second of three flashback chapters. (for now)

On day five, Kit was finishing up with her latest batch of newbie survivalists, learning the basics in a clearing near camp. As her group began to disperse back towards camp, for some free time, they came across most of Daryl’s ‘early doors’ hunting party returning with a decent haul. The man himself had stayed out apparently, as he’d picked up a deer trail and wanted to see if it would pay off. His group were already flush with the rabbits and although some of them were decent shots and not strangers to a hunt, they were far too loud and slow to be any help, so he’d sent them back without him.

Kit smiled to think of her new friend (friend? Was he that already? Would he consider her a friend or just a handy acquaintance? If he even thought of her at all?), out in the woods, doing what he did best, happy as a pig in shit. She set her group to helping skin the rabbits Daryl’s guys had caught, utilising the new skills she’d imparted to them and set off to enjoy the luxury of a little personal time of her own.

The lake was only half a mile or so from camp but it was in the complete opposite direction to where Ryan’s group had gone and everyone else had tasks to keep them occupied at camp. She’d have it all to herself and she was glad. She wasn’t a ‘girlie’ girl but even so, the chance of a private soaking and washing her hair wasn’t to be missed. Especially on a day like today; a day like every day in Georgia had been so far. It wasn’t even full summer yet but this crazy heat was already driving her nuts. She’d acclimatise, of course but it had only been a week since her plane touched down in Atlanta and she’d left the UK windy, wet and unseasonably cold…even for the UK. It would take time.

Kit smiled as she spied the water glistening through the trees. She’d only had the opportunity to escape down here alone on one other occasion so far and she was desperate for the cool water and half an hour to herself. However, as she approached the tree line she heard a light splashing. Moving forward to investigate, she found that someone else had had the same idea and beaten her to it.

He was too far out to hear her, she assumed and he had his back to the shore but Kit froze at the sight of him. She was half grumpy not to have the lake to herself, as she’d wanted and half embarrassed to have blundered in on his own private dip. Daryl was waist deep in the lake. Still clad in his pants and shirt but he’d left his boots, bow, the rest of his gear and a string of yet more rabbits, on the bank.

Kit still stood, frozen in place and not knowing if it was best to shout out, let him know she was there but that she’d find her own spot, or just sneak away as quietly as she could. She didn’t want to encroach on his solitude, she knew he probably valued it as much as she did and wouldn’t take kindly to company.

As she deliberated, Daryl took the option out of her hands. She hadn’t noticed what he was doing and as she looked on in horror, he undid the last button and stripped off his shirt baring his back to her.

Now that she thought about it, he was the only man in camp who hadn’t gone shirtless at some point this week and now she knew why. The scars were deep and old. Marring, to her eye, an otherwise pretty damned perfect example of the male physique. This damage hadn’t been a bar fight or some kind of accident. It looked like something you might expect to find on a torture victim. However, not one of the marks was fresh enough to be from a war that Daryl might possibly have fought in and unlike his brother, he’d never mentioned any kind of military service and didn’t seem likely to have ever crossed a cartel or something ridiculous like that. The tattoo was old as well and covered the only portion of Daryl’s back that hadn’t been touched by lasting violence. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

No. Those were the marks on an adult, of an abused child. A child who’d been beaten, a child who’d been whipped. Not just a one-off either. By the looks of the evidence before her, Daryl had suffered sustained abuse and if these were the visible scars, god knows what else had been done that had left no visible marks decades later.

She couldn’t call to him now. He was so private, so closed off, so disconnected. She’d known from the start that they were somehow kindred spirits and now she understood why. Someone had broken them both as children and these half-formed adults were all they had managed to build from the wreckage. He’d never have shown these scars, to someone he just met, willingly. The kindest thing she could do now was back up slowly and try to creep away unseen.

She made it to the cover of the treeline without him turning around. She’d watched, to be sure, the whole way. He was scrubbing the shirt and hopefully far too busy with that to have noticed any disturbance behind him.

Kit winced at the thought of the pain those marks represented and marvelled, yet again, at the man who carried them. He was by no means soft and certainly didn’t suffer any fools gladly but where his brother was quick to anger, you really had to be trying to get anything but a warning bark from Daryl. He was a good, dependable, reasonable human being. How had he managed to become a decent man with a start like that?

Kit had known kids in care with scars, both physical and mental. She’d been one of them. She knew what evil some people could inflict on their own blood and guessed that was the case here. She’d carried her own scars, of course and knew how hard it could be to push through the need for distance and safety from others. She’d combatted it by putting up a front, an act for the punters. Daryl didn’t. He was himself but he was apart and withdrawn as a result.

She didn’t think for a second that Merle was the one who’d inflicted this damage on his brother. Even in his most inebriated state he was just as incapable, as Daryl was, of that level of sustained cruelty, especially to a child. But she knew for a fact that Merle didn’t carry anything resembling these scars. He had a couple of old ‘war wounds’ here and there that he liked to parade during some of his more colourful stories but his back was unmarked by anything like this damage. Kit wondered obliquely if Merle even knew about these scars.

She took one last look, from the cover of the trees, as Daryl half turned towards the shore and flopped back to dunk the rest of his body and head in the water. With the wreckage of his past behind him, he was just another well-put-together guy taking a cool, refreshing dip on a hot day. He seemed care free for the first time since she’d met him. Kit smiled to herself and turned away before he surfaced again.

She found a sheltered spot further around the shore. There were no sightlines back towards Daryl’s spot and although it might be a bit steep getting back out, the rocky shore entry allowed some nice drying opportunities for her clothes.

She’d brought a clean change of underwear and planned to wash the set she was wearing while still wearing it. The cargo pants and T-Shirt she wore could be washed first and laid out on the hot rocks to dry while she took her dip. The steep rocky entry to the lake was ideal for scrubbing the dirt from her soiled clothes and she set to work and had everything set out to dry within a few minutes.

Slowly she lowered herself into the cool clear water. It actually wasn’t that cool on the surface but she’d misjudged the depth and it wasn’t far down before she felt the chill of the deeper water. It really was quite deep. She’d struggle to pull herself out at this point but it was too late now. She could swim a little further around to get out, when the time came and walk back to collect her clothes.

Kit grabbed the lovely, subtle smelling, natural soap bar from the rock by her clothes and quickly ran it over, as well as under, her underwear. Once her clothes, body and hair were well lathered up she threw the soap back to its spot and pushed away from the bank, dunking her head back to rinse her hair and scrubbing herself to rinse out her underwear.

Kit spent half an hour or more ducking and swimming, stretching her muscles in the weightless luxury of the secluded pool. Eventually she stilled and relaxed. She lay, suspended peacefully on the surface of the lake. Allowing the water to lap around her, she remained motionless and let the cares and stresses of her mind and body dissipate into the depths around her.

The sun had passed its zenith by now but she sighed with the inevitability of having to come out of her relaxed state, when she felt the first sting of her face beginning to burn in the sun. She’d just decided she’d need to move back towards the shore and reapply her sunscreen when she heard the scrape of a boot, stopped in mid-stride, on the bank.

“Awh, shit.” Daryl rumbled, as she righted herself with a splash and turned to face him. “Uhh, sorry Kit, din’ realise you were here…” his eyes wandered to the clothes laid out to dry on the bank, the towel and the underwear next to them. His eyes went wide and he coloured slightly turning away from her.

Kit had been thrown a little by the arrival but at least it was just Daryl and it wasn’t half as embarrassing a situation as he was currently imagining it was. She laughed softly and decided to put him out of his misery. There was no fun to be had in torturing a man like him, especially now she understood that he’d had more than enough of the real thing to last a lifetime.

“’s alright Daryl,” she shouted over “I’m not out here in the buff, don’t worry.”

“Oh, right. Well… good.” He half turned back to face her but stopped short of meeting her eye. “Sorry to crash the party anyway, I’ll see ya back at camp.”

“Actually!” Could she ask this of him? It seemed like a good idea the second before she opened her mouth but it WAS a bit personal. Kit dismissed the stupid doubts, as Daryl turned back to hear her out. He wouldn’t care. He probably just thought about her as ‘one of the boys’ anyway. Most guys did. She was being over-sensitive. It wouldn’t be anything to him, he’d help her out and be on his way, no harm, no foul. “I could do with your help, as you’re here. If you don’t mind?” She asked, making her way back to shore.  

He hadn’t minded, she knew he wouldn’t. He might have had a bashful moment when he’d thought he’d caught her in the buff but he was a practical guy. He’d put down his gear and she’d found the best spot, where she could get a good purchase with her foot and he could just help hoik her out.

He seemed much more comfortable with the whole idea, now she was closer and he could see that, under the surface, she was wearing a pretty formidable looking sports bra. The thing couldn’t have been less sexy, or covered much more of the top half of her torso, if it’d been a full vest. She smiled a little at the thought of her lace topped knickers but knew that they were unlikely to be seen anyway. Daryl wouldn’t look. He’d been embarrassed enough at the sight of the little pile of underwear by her clothes. He wasn’t going to ogle her close up and personal.

He reached down to take her wrist in his hand, as she held on tight to his. “On three: One..Two…Three.”

 It was all over in a matter of seconds but so much happened in that instant; while conversely, practically nothing happened at all.

Both Daryl and Kit were stronger than they’d thought and Kit launched from the lake’s watery grip, much faster and easier than either of them had anticipated. Kit’s velocity was such that she had to be stopped by an immovable object. Daryl.

The impact had been light but enough to dampen his shirt again, as Kit’s body briefly pressed against his. The briefest kiss of contact but more than enough to leave its mark.

As he’d pulled her from the lake with one arm, Daryl had also, seemingly involuntarily, steadied her with the other by wrapping it around her waist. As she came to rest on her feet in front of him, she found that she was held tight in his arms, with his right hand still gripping her wrist, gently but firmly and his left cupping the back of her hip; pressed right over the lace top of her pants, gently but firmly. 

Their eyes met and held tight. A mix of shock and surprise played over both of their faces and Kit felt something squeezing her chest, as the air around her began to fizz and crackle in her ears. She felt a successive burst of electric shocks tingling through her body, radiating largely from the points where hers came into contact with his.

She was suddenly absurdly aware of every part of her body and more importantly, the proximity of every part of his. She’d never been as close to him, or anything so incredibly male, as she was right now. She could have leant forward, just an inch or two and reached up to touch his parted lips with her own. She’d never wanted anything so much in her entire life and now that the idea had crossed her mind, she could think of nothing but the prospect of those lips. Her own mouth watered instantly, at the thought of kissing him. Kissing Daryl Dixon.

All in an instant and then it was gone. The shot rang out from the direction of camp. They both broke eye contact at the same moment and turned towards the noise. The spell was broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the next one Tuesday or Wednesday evening probably. Let me know what you think of the flashbacks - there may be scope for more of these later on in the story, if people like them and want to see more. I just don't want to drag the story to a halt with them though, so if you think they do that then it'd be good to know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part three of the flashback.

“Shit!” Daryl exclaimed, letting her go as he moved to collect his bag and his bow. “I’m ‘na go check it out.” He glanced back at her briefly, sweeping his gaze over her, as she wrapped herself in the towel. “Come along when you can, when you’re dressed.” He nodded, as he backed away towards the treeline. “Don’t rush,” he said “’s prob’ly nuthin’ but be safe, a’right?” he didn’t wait for her to confirm that she would be careful on her approach back to camp. His kills forgotten, he turned and ran, like a bat out of hell, towards the second shot.

Kit stared after him mutely, as she scrabbled to pull on her clothes over, still damp, underwear. "Don't rush.” He’d said. Like there was any chance of that. He was the only thing she’d felt anything for, her entire adult life and he’d just run towards gunshots. She couldn’t have stopped him but she’d be damned if she wasn’t following right on his tail.

Kit had no idea what the last few seconds of her life had signified but for the first time in her life, she really wanted to. She did know that gunshots at camp were bad though. Handguns, two different calibres by the sound of it, too close to camp for comfort. Not an organised target practice, not a hunt. Something was very wrong at camp and Daryl was running straight towards it. She grabbed his rabbits as an afterthought, less than two minutes in his wake.

\--------------

Chaos, that’s what Merle Dixon was. His mouth was poison and for a smart guy he could also be really fucking dumb, especially about who he decided to pick fights with. Kit didn’t ever get the full story but she doubted it would have made much logical sense anyway. She’d arrived to find people scattered about in small groups. One group of women comforting Chrissy, another taking care of Martin’s nose, a third helping Craig decide if his wrist was sprained or broken and Merle being forcibly restrained by two men plus his brother.

He was STILL fighting, still raging about something. The men were struggling to hold him. He was high as a kite and he was going to break free. The men looked wildly at Daryl for some clue how to handle this. He hung his head, gestured for them to hold on. Stepped back to remove his pack and bow and launched back at his brother with a punch that could have felled a horse. Merle was out like a light and slumped to the ground in the grateful men’s arms, as Daryl shook out his hand.  

The conflab that followed had only one possible outcome. Everyone was sorry to see Daryl go too but they understood that he had to take care of his kin. Get his drunk, drugged up brother home and try to dry him out.

Kit saw pity in some of their eyes. Daryl saw it too and didn’t like it one bit. It made him prickly, shifty on his feet. He didn’t like meeting people’s eyes at the best of times but this was just painful to watch. If he could have teleported them both out of there right away he would have but as it was he needed help to pack up their stuff quickly and get his brother and their gear in their truck before Merle regained consciousness.

Ryan had hurried back with his group at the sound of the shots and set his guys to collect the Dixons’ stuff together, while he, Nick, Jimmy and Daryl dragged Merle’s unconscious carcass two hundred metres, to the dirt road where the cars were parked up. Daryl hogtied his bonehead brother on the back seat, as the others went back to help carry their stuff.

Kit settled some of the group down to easy tasks, to take their minds off what was going on. Some of the other men involved in the incident had apparently not been entirely blameless either, so there would be further discussions once the Dixons were gone and the trip might need to be cut short for some. Kit didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit about any of it.

She carried the Dixon brothers’ tent bag and Daryl’s line of rabbits to the truck in the last group. Everyone said their goodbyes to Daryl, shook his hand, thanked him for this, or that.

As angry, snorting, grumbling noises began to drift from the back of the truck, everyone began to hang their heads and make their way back to camp.

Kit hung back to say her own goodbye. The only problem was, she didn’t know where to start. Merle helped out; filling the silence between them with one of the most profane collections of curses she’d ever heard in her life. Daryl looked around and shook his head in the direction of the truck. Turning back to face her, he looked mortified and defeated.

“’M sorry bout…” he gestured obliquely in the direction of the source of his disgust. “He can’t help himself sometimes.” Kit dared him to look at her, stepping forward and looking right into his face. He looked up to meet her eye “I know,” he said, “Ain’t no excuse. If he were a dog they’d shoot him.” The laugh was hollow, the eyes were weary.

“It’s not your responsibility to make excuses for him Daryl, he’s not a kid.”

“That you little brother?” Yelled Merle, “I tell you this; I’m n’a beat your ass into the goddamn ground when I get free.”

The sounds of Merle’s struggling and the slight rocking of the truck made them both smile. At least something about this whole situation was half-way funny.

“You’ve made some good contacts here Daryl.” Kit threw in, out of the blue. His head snapped around, at her words. “People have seen what you can do. You ever want work like this again you get in touch with Scott. I’ll make sure everyone gives you a glowing report.” She couldn’t tell if he was happy with that or not, his eyes seemed to be boring into her soul, she looked away, gesturing towards the truck. “I think you’ll have to leave your brother at home next time though.”

“That the prissy little limey bitch?” Merle shouted from the truck “Mmmmm – I like her.” He murmered, hazily. “You sly motherfucker!” He suddenly bellowed, with an amused tone. “Boy, you been stickin’ it to that nice piece o’ ass? Maaaaan, that girl got tits on her, just won’t quit and I always took you for an ass man.”

“Shut the fuck up Merle,” Daryl exploded with embarrassment. “‘fore I come over there ‘n gag ya dumb fuckin’ mouth.” As he calmed down he stiffened, crossed his arms defensively over his chest, visibly horrified that Kit had had to endure his brother’s words but not knowing what to do about it. She wondered how many times Daryl had had to deal with exactly this kind of shit. No wonder he kept away from most of the women in camp and showed zero sign of any interest in any of them, even from a safe distance. Any sign of interest would be met, by Merle, with exactly this kind of humiliation for both parties. The only way Kit could cope with the outburst was just to completely ignore it, like water off a duck’s back.

As his brother continued to cackle his amusement from the truck, Daryl briefly raised his eyes to her and shook his head in apology. He just didn’t have the words. She understood. She took another step towards him and lowered her voice.

“He’s just going to carry on holding you back Daryl. I know he’s your brother and I know you feel like you have to look after him but you don’t have to be brought down too.” He met her gaze at last. “You’re better than that.”

She saw him bristle, getting ready to defend his idiot brother. “Oh I know,” she held up a conciliatory hand. “He’s not stupid, not some dumb ‘redneck’ but he’s a mess. He needs to get off the booze and the drugs and pull his head out of his backside and get his shit together.” They were two feet apart now, she could have reached out and touched him. “As he is, he’s just a destructive whirlwind of chaos and it’s not just him he’s hurting. You want to look after him, I get that but you don’t have to let him destroy your chances too Daryl.”

He shook his head lightly, rubbing his bruised knuckles absentmindedly. Couldn’t see a way out of the cycle. “You’re worth twenty Merle’s out here. We all saw it. He needs you but you don’t need him.” He wouldn’t look at her directly but she saw him close his eyes at that. Accepting the truth of her words.

“The way he is now; he’s nothing but poison to you. Please remember that. Remember that whatever he says, whatever bollocks he tells you about how useless you are and how you wouldn’t last five minutes without him, it’s fucking horse-shit and there are thirty people in this camp that will testify to that fact and a hand-full of them actually know what they’re talking about.” He almost laughed at that. “Scott will hook you up with a group any time you’re willing to go out without Merle. Please remember that Daryl – you do have options.”

Rant over, Kit didn’t know what else to say or do. She desperately wanted a time machine. Wanted the TARDIS to swoop in and whisk her back an hour or so. Wanted to be back in his arms, at the lake. Wanted that moment, that almost-kiss, if that’s what it had been, more than anything in the world.

“You sure gone quiet out there!” came Merle’s sing-song contribution to the conversation. “She suckin’ y’off t’say g’bye or somethin’?” Kit closed her eyes and Daryl groaned in despair. “’cause if y’up fer sharin’ I might be willin’ t’overlook THIS shit some.”

“Better get goin’,” Daryl grumbled, “It’s only gonna get worse.” He turned towards the truck, then thinking better of it span back on his heels. “Thanks.” He nodded. “I’ll think about it. Maybe call Scott, when I get him settled.”

“You thinkin’ about it at least?” Merle asked. “Old Merle got some use for that pretty mouth.”

“Promise?” She asked, ignoring Merle and reaching out to touch his arm imploringly, before he could go. He didn’t flinch.

“Hey! You ignorin’ me out there?”

He didn’t look away this time as he caught her eye. “Yeah, promise.” He smiled a little half-formed smile. The most beautiful thing she’d seen all week. Then she saw a thought crash across his mind, as his features froze on his face. “You goin’ home after this?” he asked “I mean, I guess this is goodbye?”

“That’s just rude li’l brother.” Merle complained. “Ignorin’ yer elders.”

“I have a course in Texas next.” Kit answered, noting an interesting hint of sadness in his eyes. “I’ll be back here in two weeks though. Got another group going out, other side of the hills.” Daryl nodded, looking a little more positive.

“Good country.” He commented.

“I bet we could use a good hunter with some local knowledge?” she smiled and angled her head a little, teasingly. “If you’re interested, call Scott. I’ll give him a number you can reach me on. We can meet up somewhere and talk about it before the trip, I’ll have a couple of free days here before we go out. Plenty of time for a catch up.”

Kit’s heart leapt as he smiled at her again and nodded before making his way back to the truck. “Sounds good.” He said backing away.

“Oh, you remembered me huh? Finished up with her majesty… you got time for your kin now?” Even Merle couldn’t dampen Kit’s spirits, as the confidence she’d heard in Daryl’s last words to her sunk in.

She stopped his progress briefly, to pass the rabbits through the open driver’s window and caught sight of Merle trussed up like a chicken on the back seat. She smiled warmly at each of them in turn, stood back and waved them off from the verge, hoping like hell that she’d see Daryl again in two weeks.

“Please tell me you tapped that, or I swear to fuckin’ Christ you ain’t no brother o’ mine!” she heard Merle bark, at his long-suffering brother, as they drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad I got a bit of Merle into the story. He was the main reason I wanted to do this re-write really. I hope I've done him justice? I have some more flashes planned for later and Merle will be a big part of those too, so please let me know if you think this is right/representative of him or not.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to reality...

Every minute was precious now. Those girls had been taken over half an hour ago. He didn’t want to think about what those assholes were doing to them, he preferred to hope against all reason that there was still time to catch up before they got to this barn. If the barn even existed.

The kid from Hilltop had been the only witness of the girls being taken. He’d been too far away to be seen and had kept his head down and his ears open. That had been something but Daryl couldn’t really understand how anyone could hide while two girls they knew and lived with, ate with, had known from the start, were dragged kicking and screaming into some asshole’s van and driven off. He thought about Carol, Maggie, Beth – damn it ANY of the others. He hadn’t had much time for Lori but he’d have fought even for her. He just couldn’t support the idea of making a decision like that in their case. Even if it’d been hopeless, he just couldn’t have sat on his hands like the kid did. It had probably been a good decision, a smart decision but for Daryl there wouldn’t have been a decision at all.

He dismissed the anger rising in him and forced himself back to the task in hand. Focus on the trail. The tracks had been clear at the start and seemed to indicate a direct route through the town and out the opposite side. The boy and his father had gone back to their car and would head to Hilltop. They’d be back with more bodies as soon as they could, he knew, but it would take at least an hour to get there and at least another to get back. He could safely assume he’d have no backup, if he did find the barn, for well over an hour.

He touched the flare at his belt tentatively. In daylight, when backup arrived they’d better be nearby when he set it off. Whatever happened, even if he found the barn in the next few minutes he’d have to do as the boy had done and sit on his ass waiting for well over an hour to be sure that backup was in the area and had headed, as he’d instructed they should, to this side of town.

Daryl wasn’t sure he could sit tight. Even for strangers he’d never met. Those girls didn’t deserve whatever these guys had in mind and he just hoped they’d be in decent shape to fight back if he had to go in early. He knew it would come to that. If the girls fought back at the first sign of a distraction and he was lucky enough to catch those bastards unawares, maybe they’d have a chance. Three against five. Could be worse. Could be better.

That was the best case scenario though, that was if the boy was right about what he’d heard from his hiding place. If he’d misheard or garbled it up then they could be half way to DC by now, in a barn three towns away. He didn’t even want to think about that scenario.

The tracks were so messed up by now that he was largely just guessing. It seemed like there was a lot of stopping and starting, mostly near junctions. He hoped against hope that it meant they were unsure of their route. Prayed that it meant they weren’t as far ahead of him as they should be by now. He was reasonably sure this was the road they’d been on but there was nothing to see now. He wasn’t even looking down anymore. His leg wasn’t up to a run at full pelt but he was just covering the distance now as fast as he could.

Up ahead, he saw a building through the trees and knew it must be sitting just off the roadside. It didn’t LOOK like a barn but it was a decent size, he couldn’t afford to mess up his approach if this was the place, so he took off to the side of the road, planning to go at it through the woods.

He’d taken out a handful of walkers with the knife on the way here but the building itself looked to be shut tight. A good place to hold up if you were a bunch of assholes looking for some privacy, he guessed. There was no time to check the whole perimeter. If this was the place he guessed the van was on the other side in the far corner and if that were the case then there was also another entrance on that side.

This side had a beat-up looking back door and two boarded up windows. He went in as clean and quiet as he could. The door lock looked like the knife would do it from a distance but on closer inspection Daryl found that it wasn’t even locked.

Inside it was pitch dark once the door shut behind him but prior to that he’d taken stock and seen an empty corridor with two internal doors. The corridor was clear. No walkers and no trip hazards. He could hear a rhythmic knocking sound coming from the doorway at the far end and didn’t want to consider what that might signify but there was definite movement from the middle door too.

Considering the layout of the building, Daryl had a decision to make. If one of the girls was behind that end door, likelihood was that there was only one asshole in there with her right now. It killed him to think about this strategically but he was no use to her if he stormed in there and took out one guy, only to find himself and her blocked into a room with no other easy exits and four or five other assholes in the main part of the building, with the other girl and some warning that something was up. There was a chance he could take out one guy quietly enough not to raise any attention from the main group but more likely, asshole number one would make a big old noise and get them both killed with his last breath.

On the other hand, behind the other door, there were likely four or five other assholes and a very scared girl. One against four was a risk, obviously but maybe the girl would be useful, once he’d provided another target for her captors to concentrate on. The other girl might be able to do the same, or at least fight hard enough to keep her waste of skin busy and herself alive until he could get back in there to back her up.

Daryl hated guessing. Hated not having time to really scope this situation out and make a proper plan but that rhythmic bump was like nails on the chalkboard of his patience. No time. Go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was pretty short, so I'll probably pop another one up tomorrow or Sunday to make up for it.


	7. Chapter 7

The knock at the door stopped him in his tracks, as he prepared to shoulder the door. He whipped his bow up towards any potential threat but remained thoroughly confused. It was a deliberate pattern and came from the back door he’d just used. Who the fuck would knock?

“Please don’t shoot at me Daryl and please don’t open either of those doors. There are way more dead behind one of them than you can handle on your own and you just don’t even want to know what’s going on behind the other.”

The voice was muffled by the door that separated them but it was definitely a woman and she definitely wasn’t local. He didn’t dare believe that it was real. He had form for hallucinating during particularly shit days but shit as his day had been, it hadn’t been THAT bad. Daryl knew that accent, knew that voice. He moved towards the door like a sleepwalker, driven by something more instinctive than conscious.

He opened the door slowly, peering into the midday sun he was practically blinded and it took a few moments for the fuzzy image in front of him to coalesce into a recognisable figure. But she was that. As she stepped well back to give him space, she was recognisable. It was her. It was Kit. Flesh and blood and one hundred percent alive and well and here. Right in front of him.

“Kit!” He breathed her name in disbelief, the first time he’d allowed himself to do so in three years, as he absent-mindedly rested the bow against the door jamb and practically ran the few steps that separated them. Without a thought, he swept her up in his arms, in a tight embrace. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he breathed her in and never wanted the feeling of having her back to fade. Never wanted to let her go, ever again.

The last time he’d felt this ‘right’ had been the last time he’d seen her, the last time he’d held her in his arms. The ONLY time he’d held her in his arms. He’d driven away from her that day with a nagging, gnawing feeling that he’d never see her again. He’d put it down to his general despondency about his current situation, as a whole but she’d given him a glimpse of the life he could have. What he could be, without the dragging millstone around his neck that Merle had become since his last stint in jail.

Daryl had every intention of calling Scott and meeting her for that ‘catch-up’. He HAD called Scott, only a few days later. He’d got her number and though the guy had warned him that the number was unreachable, he’d tried. The whole world was going crazy. He’d never cared much for ‘civilisation’ the way it was but at least it had been something. It had taken barely a week to go from crazy, distant seeming, rumours, to all out chaos everywhere.

He’d never known what had happened to her. She’d been on the course in Texas, last Scott knew but he didn’t know where and he didn’t know if she was still there.  Daryl didn’t know if she was alive or dead. Didn’t know what, if anything, that moment by the lake had been to her, or why she’d tried to help him that day, despite his disgusting brother’s best efforts.

He’d lived on ‘maybes’ for a while. Maybe she’d got out before the worst of it. Maybe she’d been shipped off home. Maybe but he didn’t know. Never would. He’d lost her. She was the first thing he lost and by far the most devastating because she represented everything remotely positive that could ever have been his future in that world. Every good feeling, every positive moment he’d experienced since that day, had been a pale shadow of the hope she’d given him that day. Every loss since had just compounded that first crushing blow.

He’d been so mad at Merle. Hated his own blood. Barely cared that his brother had descended to his worst self the second the shit hit the fan. Daryl had settled down, after a while, into a kind of careless apathy, let himself be lead but if he was honest, he’d barely tolerated Merle, those first few weeks after the turn and was beginning to think something would have to come to a head. When he’d lost his brother the first time, he’d been a raging cauldron of conflicting emotions. Consumed with his own guilt because he’d almost wished him away on the one hand, almost elated to finally be free of him on the other. It had made him even more angry in the long run; this time at himself.

Daryl had been at a baseline of anger for three years now. In grief and pain, not for the world he’d lost or for the things he’d had to do but for the people he’d cared about and the ways he’d lost them. The ways he’d failed them. She had been the first. Every one since, including Dale, Merle himself, Hershel, Beth, Denise, Glenn, all of the others, every one had been salt in the, already festering, wound.    

But she wasn’t gone. She was here, she was flesh and blood and she’d found him somehow. Gradually, the silent tears ebbed and his hold loosened, as she asked him to let her breathe. He began to take some notice of their surroundings again. Somehow he’d gone from lifting her in his arms to kneeling on the ground. He suspected his legs had given way. He was still shaking all over. A mixture of shock and joy perhaps. He was so unfamiliar with it he’d almost forgotten what joy felt like. Could count the number of times he’d felt a flicker of it, in the past few years – damn it who was he kidding – in his whole fucking life, on one hand.

His face was still buried in her hair. Soft and fragrant. She smelled faintly of strawberries. The hair was longer and though her roots were the exact shade of light chestnut brown he remembered, the ends were a faintly synthetic, reddish hue. It must have been a hell of a dye to leave a trace three years on, he thought, as he began to register that she was speaking to him.

“It’s OK, he’s a friend.” She was saying but it was to someone else, not to him. He grudgingly released her a little. Raising his head to see who she was talking to, he became aware of a low growl off to the left.

Kit held out an open palm to the giant dog. Some kind of husky, with a hell of a dose of wolf. She indicated that he should do the same and with a sniff at his hand and a wary look at Kit, he was accepted as a ‘friend’ and she padded off to lope around the perimeter of the building.

“She’s never seen anything like that before.” Kit explained, “She’s used to being allowed to tear anything that tries to touch me apart.” Kit was smiling at him.  “Wasn’t sure what she’d do. She seems OK with you now though.” Mere inches from his face. Smiling. Alive. Kit.

“You’re alive.” He croaked.

“So are you.” She smiled again, rising to her feet, pulling him to his own.

“I thought you were dead, or gone home, all this time. Damn near killed me, never knowin’ which.”  He shook his head in disbelief.

“And here I was wondering if you’d even remember me, or recognise me if you did.” She avoided his eyes, that little shy look she got sometimes when they spoke, just the two of them.

“Ain’t nothin’ in the world could make me forget you.” The words were out before he could filter them. Three years had broken down any barriers he might once have had in place for her. Life was too short to lie to the woman he’d missed for three years without even really, consciously realising how much until she was back. Like a shaft of healing light, half his burden, half the weight he carried with him on a daily basis, was gone. The stranger who’d given a shit about him, the stranger who’d cared and made HIM care was here, alive. The sudden lack of that pain, that loss, the lightening of his soul, was almost euphoric.

“How the hell d’you find me?” He asked, trying to pull himself back to reality. Trying to care how the magic trick had been done, how the miracle had been achieved. “What you doin’ out here anyway?”

“I saw you in town.” She replied. “I knew it was you. Saw you were hunting something, someone. I followed you to be sure you were alone. Trying to figure out how to say ‘Hi’. Had to do something when I saw you were going for this death trap.” She indicated the building. “What the hell are YOU doing out here Daryl?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww.
> 
> I kind of miss the lawn mowers but I wanted the cheesy 'running into each other's arms' scene in there somewhere soooo... no lawn mowers this time. Maybe I'll find some other place to squeeze them in :D


	8. Chapter 8

He’d told her what he was looking for and why and she’d been straight on the same page. Told him she thought she knew the place and dragging him back to the world, away from the bubble of their reunion, she took him to the car she’d stashed a couple of hundred metres from the building. There were three others, just like it, on each side of town – ‘just in case’ cars she’d set up before approaching the task of dredging the town. 

She offered her services to help rescue the girls, hadn’t even asked if he intended to wait for backup or was planning on trying a solo rescue. She realised she hadn’t asked because she knew the answer. He was still the decent guy she’d taken him for all those years ago. No way on Earth he was waiting for the cavalry. She knew it in her bones. She’d always known just how Daryl ticked and it wasn’t a million miles from her own makeup.

“These guys are probably expecting the barn to be a relatively dead-free-zone if they came past here any time prior to five days ago.” She said, pulling off the last of the camouflage foliage and opening the driver’s door, chucking her bag and rifle in the back. “But it’ll be crawling with the fuckers by now.”

Daryl wasn’t overly happy about riding shotgun but the car was a stick shift, so he sucked it up. No time to argue about who drives anyway. “How d’ya know that?” he asked as he took his place next to her.

“It might’ve been me that attracted them on my way into town.” She admitted sheepishly. It seemed to Daryl that this may be an interesting but long story, so he didn’t press the issue. “Anyway, it shouldn’t be bad enough to put them off the place. If there’s a few of them they could clear it easily enough but it will have slowed them down.” She looked over at Daryl as she turned the engine over, shot it into first and took off. “We might still be in time.”

It was unspoken. What would happen to the girls, in the hands of those men. They could be cannibals for all either of them knew. But cannibals might not be that bothered about their meat being alive for long. So, much as it sickened both Daryl and Kit, they were secretly both hoping for rapists. Preferably shy ones, who craved privacy and some comfortable hay bales, rather than an overcrowded van.

“Hey,” Daryl started, suddenly realising what danger he was putting Kit in. “If we find this place and they are there…”

“Hmmm?”

“If shit goes south. If anything looks wrong and you think we’re on a losing streak; you cut and run alright!” He could see her spoiling to argue. “I mean it. If it looks bad you just get out. We’re going in to save those girls but we might not be able to and if we can’t I don’t want to be responsible for them gettin’ their hands on you too.”

Whatever she’d planned to say, that took the wind out of her sails.

“Promise me you’ll do it. You’ll get out. Leave me, leave the girls, get to this car and get the hell out. Can’t lose you again – only just got ya back.”  He looked at her expectantly. Pleadingly?? “Promise?” Not so much a question as an order.

“Look, we’re almost there and we need to talk tactics,” she said, wondering if he could be deflected by more pressing matters. She had no intention of running. Would rather off herself at the last possible second than leave him and two helpless girls, when there was even a chance they could win the day but she balked at giving him an appeasing lie.

“The barn has a big main area and two store rooms at one end, separated by a central corridor, with a door at each end, one into the barn and one on the outer wall.” She could see he wasn’t happy with the change of subject but she had him. “The store rooms were full of mouldy old bags of grain or horse feed or something last time I was there. I’m sure that’s where they’ll take the girls for some private time.” She winced at her choice of words but couldn’t think how else she could have put it that would’ve sounded more acceptable.

“OK. That’s good I guess.” He looked thoughtful, as he started to think it through but Kit had known this detail from the second he’d mentioned the barn. She already had a plan. But he wasn’t going to like it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't changed much in these 'barn' bits, so I'll post them all pretty quickly over the next couple of days. Don't want anyone who's read the original, getting bored. ;)


	9. Chapter 9

“You know it makes sense.” She stated again. He did. He did know. It made perfect sense. She was absolutely right and it could work. It was certainly their best chance at a winning plan. He just really, really hated it.

He hated the idea of her taking his bow, yes. He knew that she’d be capable with it though. She’d assured him she still had a similar, if lesser, model in her own arsenal. She’d admitted she wouldn’t be able to reload it on the fly but she was hoping only to need one clean, quiet shot. Daryl would provide enough noise and distraction to cover her assault on the asshole behind door number two.

It made absolute sense that she should be the one to attack the two store rooms. Those two girls would be beside themselves with fear already and would surely react better to being rescued by another woman than by some scary ass new guy they may not recognize as a friend. They hadn’t seen him in town, they had no idea he was tracking them. They wouldn’t be expecting anyone to rescue them, let alone that guy from Alexandria that they may or may not have seen at Hilltop the last time he visited over a month ago.

It all made sense and he didn’t like any of it but the thing that he hated most was that she’d just handed over her assault rifle. Just like that. Not a flicker of concern at handing over a much more powerful weapon in such a precarious situation. Swapping it for a crossbow she’d just admitted she’d only be able to fire once. That and her own nine mil handgun, along with the two hunting knives on her belt, were all the weapons she’d have. 

He knew she’d leave that handgun untouched if she could get away with it. She’d only resort to that if the shit really hit the fan or it looked like she’d lost and it was that or ‘worse than death’. He hated to take the more powerful rifle but these were the weapons they had and if he was the one going in the main door and expecting to find at least three targets (maybe four??) spread randomly around a large barn, then he was the one in need of an assault rifle. She was right but he hated it.

They parked well back from the building and approached stealthily on foot. The dog had been left at the car to guard it. Daryl wasn’t sure how great of a guard dog she actually was, as she hadn’t raised a heckle in his direction since that first meeting. He couldn’t believe that any useful guard dog, could be that trusting that quickly but he was glad of some kind of defense system in the car, in case any of the assholes escaped the barn during all the carnage and tried to make off in their vehicle.

Kit indicated the back door and silently told him to give her one minute before he went for the main entrance. They wordlessly nodded luck to each other and went their separate ways. 

It was the first time they’d been out of each other’s sight since they’d found each other and they both instantly felt the loss again. The need to get this done and be back in each other’s presence would keep them going now, until this was over and the girls were safe, or not. Either way and however this panned out; both Kit and Daryl were determined that this parting wouldn’t be their last, or even their last for another three years.

\-------------

The door was fastened but not locked. It opened outwards easily and without a creak or squeak to be heard. Kit was thankful for small mercies and slipped inside the cloying staleness of the barn. Inside it was almost black dark but she knew the positions of the doors from her previous visit and the brief recce she’d had while the outer door allowed light into the corridor. 

She could hear muffled jollity coming from the main barn behind the door at the end of the corridor. From the right hand store room she heard the unmistakeable struggle of a full on fight. The girl on the right was fighting back. Kicking and screaming and clawing her attacker it sounded like. She heard him too. She was getting some hits in and he was semi-shouting as he tried to get her under control. Kit guessed he was embarrassed in case his fellow rapists overheard the trouble she was giving him.

Kit was worried by the lack of noise from the other room. It was possible that the other room was empty and the girl was in the main barn, in which case she worried for Daryl but she could find out quickly enough and go to help him if necessary. She’d already made her choice. Bless the hell cat in the right hand room. She’d provide ample distraction for her own attacker not to notice that the (possible) guy next door was being murdered.

Kit tentatively opened the door on the left to see a girl, semi-naked and out cold on a sack of horse feed. The guy was facing her with his back to the door, messing with his fly. Kit didn’t know if this was ‘pre’ or ‘post’. She hoped for the former and shot Daryl’s crossbow, sending a bolt clean through asshole number one’s head. She wished she’d had time to kill him an even slightly more painful way but she didn’t even have time to check the girl. There were no other threats in this room, so she dropped the crossbow, turned on her heels and made directly for door number two.


	10. Chapter 10

Daryl took note of the mini-van parked up out front and the fifteen or so walkers, piled up next to the barn door, where they’d been dragged after the barn had been cleared. They looked like they’d been finished off with knives, to minimize noise and he prayed that that had taken long enough to save the girls – that he and Kit had made it in time.

If he had any doubts about what he was planning to do, they left him the instant he caught sight of a woman’s shoe, abandoned right at the side door of the van. It didn’t belong to a walker. The sound of male laughter drifted from the barn, as Daryl’s heart hardened into the machine he needed to be right now and he took one last steadying breath. 

He busted through the door and sent a burst of rifle fire into the space, before he even registered what was in there. He was going for shock & awe and he got it. He got one guy right in the neck in that first burst and another in the arm. The winged guy dove for cover behind some huge piece of hay bailing equipment but asshole number three was a more imminent problem.

He’d grabbed for his shotgun and was swinging it around when Daryl shot him point blank, between the eyes, with the handgun in his left. ‘Winged guy’ had started whimpering and was frantically scrabbling beyond the cover of the farming equipment now. Daryl saw what he was going for. There was a cache of weapons over on a bench against the wall to his right.

With one last scan to make sure that there weren’t any other threats in here, Daryl raised the handgun again and shot the guy, nice and clean through the back of the head. He then finished off the first guy he’d shot in the throat and made his way to the storage room corridor at the back of the barn.

The right hand door was open but the room was quiet. The left hand room was an explosion of noise. There was a hell of a struggle going on in there. The noise came to an abrupt halt as he burst through the door and he suddenly found himself faced with two very sharp blood soaked knives wielded by a pumped up Kit. She’d obviously whorled around, expecting asshole number three, only to find the sky blue concern of Daryl Dixon staring startledly back at her.

“Clear?” She breathed, shuddering as the adrenaline coursing through her moments before began to dissipate and she lowered her shaking arms. He grunted and nodded in response, coming down from his own adrenaline hit, even as he looked into her own stormy grey-blue eyes.

The girl was in the corner of the room, pulling on clothes and fighting back tears, cradling an injured arm and limping painfully. She was shouting something about Wendy. Kit assumed that was the other girl’s name. Stashing her knives, Kit broke eye contact and eased past Daryl, heading for the other room.

She checked the girl and found her breathing. She had a nasty cut on the side of the head and bruises on her arms. She’d been punched a couple of times by the looks of her and had clumps of hair and skin under her finger nails. She’d been a fighter as well – bless her.

It looked like her fight had paid off too. Kit wasn’t a doctor, or a police officer and wouldn’t have known how to examine the girl properly but as far as she could see there was no obvious damage down below and no tell-tale evidence around her thighs or buttocks. She covered the girl up as best she could before Daryl or the other girl came in and saw any of this and tried to gently but firmly rouse the girl.

Daryl had, so far, never been so glad that Kit was here. He really had no idea where to put himself right now. He'd checked the dead guy for weapons but he was no further use to any of these women. He’d have loved to be some kind of help to them but knew that a random male stranger was going to be no comfort to either of the girls right now and Kit seemed ‘on it’.  

With all three women, relatively safe for the time being, he excused himself from the entire hallway and headed back to the main barn for the weapons cache. At least he could do that without getting in their way or causing them any further discomfort. Hopefully, by the time he returned, both girls would be in a fit state to be moved.

\------------

Wendy was coming around slowly, with the encouragement of her friend Clara. Kit allowed her to take the lead, bringing the younger girl back to the land of the living, while she concentrated on clothing her and checking her wounds. Nothing life threatening and no broken bones.

“Clara? Is it?” she asked as she worked “you OK? Is the arm bad?”

“I’ll live.” She answered distractedly, catching herself she looked back at the older woman, giving her the attention she deserved “Thank you!” she breathed. “Where’d you guys come from anyway?” She asked, suddenly aware how unlikely their rescue by two random strangers had been. “The rest of them dead too?” She asked.

“Daryl cleared the barn.” Kit answered, returning Wendy’s shoes to their owner’s feet.

“Daryl?” Clara mumbled. “Dixon? From Alexandria? – I thought he looked familiar.”

“You can thank me all you like love and God knows you’re welcome for my part in it but it’s him you owe for saving you really.” At that, a huge clamour erupted in the hallway.


	11. Chapter 11

Daryl took his time collecting the shoe, checking the bodies for additional weapons and grabbing the guys’ bag. He needed a moment to take stock. To pinch himself. 

Half an hour ago – less – he’d been one man on a suicidal mission to save two girls he’d probably never even properly met. He’d been in a hopeless situation and he’d known it. It hadn’t mattered. He had family, of course he knew there were people back in Alexandria who’d care if he died. He knew that, knew his family would care. But his own life had never really been his first priority. The recent funk he'd been in, brought on by their nightmare with the Saviours and Negan, brought on by his own crushing guilt about that night in the woods and Glenn, had meant that his own life's value had fallen even lower to himself.

Now here he was. The girls were safe and so was he and he’d never been more glad to be alive in his entire life. Kit was alive and he was alive to see it. She was here and it had kick started something in his gut. He dared to dream that maybe that moment by the lake had meant something to her after all. Maybe she’d tried to help him that day because she actually cared a little for him. Maybe those shy little looks of hers weren’t his overactive imagination but real, actual, shy little looks, just for him, just because of him. Maybe, just maybe, she’d missed him a fraction as much as he’d missed her. She’d certainly seemed as pleased to see him and as ready to accept him as the man she’d known and trusted back then. 

He shook his head. He had to get some control of the torrent of thoughts and feelings flooding back into his previously atrophied system. “There’s a time and a place” he thought to himself “and this ain’t it.”

He figured he’d head back, let Kit know he was going to fetch the car, give them all a little longer to recover without him hovering. He figured the girl that was already up and about was limping and the other one had been out cold last he’d briefly seen. Neither was going to be up to any kind of walk and they wouldn’t want to get back in that mini-van. It was something useful, something practical he could do. Something to take his mind off Kit and back on to the, no longer desperate but still pretty grim, situation they had to deal with.

He vaguely wondered, as he opened the door into the corridor, what kind of reception he’d get from Kit’s dog without her there. He didn’t have time to reach a conclusion.

The outer door swung open at the same moment and a lone man strode into the hallway without looking up. Daryl saw him open his mouth to say something, maybe shout something to the friends he expected to be in the store rooms. As he opened his mouth he raised his head and caught sight of Daryl and the holdall, as the door swung shut behind him.

There was just enough light from the barn end of the corridor for the two men to make each other out but nothing more. They were comparable in size, asshole number six was carrying a bit of a beer gut but he had the advantage of being a good ten years or so Daryl’s junior. Daryl didn’t register any of that and neither did asshole number six. The holdall hit the floor as the door slammed shut and the two men clashed, in a frenzy of blows, as they each wrestled to get to their knives while preventing the other from doing so.

Kit flung open the door, shedding a shaft of light from the camping lanterns that lit the store room into the hall. She saw the frantic fight in front of her and as Daryl momentarily pushed asshole number six against the opposite wall to get in a swift body blow, she lunged forward behind him and drove her knife through the guy’s eye socket. He looked so surprised as he went limp in Daryl’s arms and slumped to the floor. No less so than Daryl himself. “Thanks.” He nodded.

“You’re welcome.” Kit replied, turning to Clara. “How many were there Clara?”

“Ugh… six, there were six.”

“How many did you get in the barn?” she whispered to Daryl, not wanting to worry the girls with the idea that there were more on the loose.

“Three. He’s number four,” Daryl indicated the heap on the floor by kicking its leg “you got two back here right?”

“Yeah, so that’s six. OK, Good.” She smiled at him, relief flooding her face. Daryl wanted to take that face in his hands, wanted to frame it like that forever. Wanted to kiss those smiling lips.

They broke eye contact as Clara piped up from the store room. “I think Wendy’s back with us. She’s groggy but she’s talking.”

“I’ll get the car. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Daryl mumbled, passing Kit Clara’s shoe, as he retrieved the holdall and eased past to get to the exit, trying desperately to avoid her eyes.

“We’ll be outside in a minute.” She promised, returning to help Clara to support Wendy as she tried to get up.


	12. Chapter 12

Daryl didn’t need to worry about the dog. By the time he reached the car, the three women were coming out of the barn and as he tentatively opened the passenger door the dog shot past him and headed straight for Kit and the girls. The sight of a friendly dog, eager to meet Kit’s new friends, was just what the two traumatised youngsters needed. 

As their hands were gently nuzzled they broke into smiles that belied the terrifying ordeal they had just endured. Kit began to let herself believe that they were young and strong and they’d recover from their nightmare with time and their friends around them.

Daryl brought the car to them. Crunching gears indicated that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with a manual gearbox. Kit worried about the girls’ reaction to sharing the car with a brusque, burly, monosyllabic male. She needn’t have. Her words to Clara had hit home and she took the lead as he opened the back door for them.

“Mr. Dixon, Wendy and I, we owe you our lives.” She began. “We can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for us,” she looked briefly at Kit “both of you. I don’t know how you knew we needed help or how you came to rescue us but we’re truly thankful. Our folks will be too I’m sure.” It was too much that she would be ready to hug him in thanks but Kit knew that he wouldn’t appreciate a show of physical thanks anyway. 

She herself, was happy to give the girls what comfort and support she could, under the circumstances but she wasn’t naturally ‘huggy’ either. She certainly wouldn’t have been comfortable receiving one out-of-the-blue from a member of the opposite sex. Present company excepted, apparently. 

Daryl briefly made eye contact with the girls and with a dismissive utterance and nod he accepted their thanks. That was the best he could do. Kit knew they were lucky to get that.

“Yeah, you’re welcome girls.” Kit added to Daryl’s grunt. She ushered them into the back feeling like their head mistress or something. Somehow, two years of self-sufficiency and distance had fallen away and through necessity, she found herself adopting her ‘sociable’ persona again, as though it was her natural state. 

“You can relax, those bastards are dead and we’ll get you back to your people.” She smiled reassuringly, as she secured the door and pointedly made her way to the driver’s side of the car. Daryl slipped into the passenger side, as unobtrusively as he could manage and the dog followed suit. She decided against staying with him, preferring the company of the girls in the back, who were happy for the company and the comfort.

“Daryl tells me that the two you were with in Garvey went back to Hilltop for reinforcements.” She informed the girls as she started up the car. “They won’t be back yet, not for another half an hour or so at least, so we’ll head back to town and take the road back out to Hilltop. That way we’ll meet them on their way here and you’ll be back with your own people faster.” She was already swung around and back on the road heading to town. “Sound like a plan?”

“Sure does, thank you ma’am.” Said Wendy. The first words she’d uttered to anyone but Clara. Her voice was reedy and croaked but she was coherent and positive, which was the best anyone could hope for under the circumstances. 

Daryl reached into his pack and retrieved a half full bottle of water, which he instantly passed back to the girls with a gruff “Here – drink.”

It didn’t escape Kit or Daryl’s notice that the first sip both girls took got swirled and spit straight out the back window. Neither wanted to analyse that, or even acknowledge it.

“No worries Wendy and my name’s Kit.” She gave Daryl a sideways glance that screamed ‘let’s keep this light’. She nodded to her own pack at his feet adding “I got half a bottle in mine too. Take some yourself.” Daryl did as he was instructed, passed her the bottle when he’d had a couple of mouthfuls. She did the same and passed the remainder back to the girls. They were on the point of pouring some out for the dog when Kit piped up.

“Don’t waste it on her. She’s been drinking all day and she’ll get more when we’ve dropped you off with your people. I have plenty of water in town.” The girls nodded and complied, although they felt cruel doing so. 

Kit saw their discomfort. “Your people might’ve been in such a tearing hurry to get back here that they failed to think ahead about little survival essentials like water, so you keep that for yourselves OK.” 

Her assurances about the dog made them feel easier and the thought of their people coming for them lightened the girls’ moods immensely. Kit felt a little warmth in the timid smiles they gave in response to her words. She might never really know (or want to know) what had gone on in that van or the barn, or what these girls had been through but they were safe now, they knew it and they would recover. She was sure of that and it lifted a weight in her heart.

Daryl just knew that this whole thing would have gone down a hell of a lot different without Kit. Whatever else happened today he needed to get her home to Alexandria. 

He may have got it wrong a time or two in the past but he didn’t need to second guess himself on this one and no one back home would either. Kit was a keeper. She was smart, resourceful, tough as old boots, a strategic thinker and good with defusing tricky people-situations (which was anything relating to interpersonal communication and beyond the realms of his comfort zone, as far as he was concerned). They needed her. He just wished there were more like her out here and that the good ones were always this easy to spot. 

Not that it mattered anyway, useful or not, he was taking her home. HE needed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - that's it for now. The next chapter has some work to be done before it's ready, so will probably post that over the weekend.


	13. Chapter 13

The people from Hilltop had been shocked out of their minds to meet up with Daryl and the two missing girls on the road. They’d expected the absolute worst. He could see in their faces that they’d prepared themselves for arriving far too late. For bodies, or bloodshed or worst of all; one lone man with nothing to show for hours of tracking and still missing two beloved girls they’d never see again.

Jesus had been there when the father and son had got home. They’d come back out with him, Wendy’s father, Clara’s boyfriend and two of the more useful members of the Hilltop crew. They’d brought all the firepower they could muster and two large vehicles. They’d been beside themselves to see the girls alive and well.

Wendy’s father had been white as a sheet, as they’d met on the road. He was in a cold sweat, even as he’d pulled Kit into a bear hug of unimaginable gratitude. Fear did funny things to people, his appeared to have ravaged him physically. All the while, Clara’s boyfriend held her close and shook Daryl’s hand so long, they thought he might never let go.

They’d wanted Daryl and Kit to go with them back to Hilltop. Daryl hadn’t considered that they might want that but he saw that Kit had. Despite the girls’ pleading for her to come home with them, she shook her head firmly. “No, no – you get yourselves home to your people, I’ve got things to do.” She smiled hugging them both as she helped them into one of the trucks. “I’ll see you next time I’m near Hilltop and you’ll be looking a damn sight better than you do now.” She laughed softly at them and they agreed they couldn’t be much worse. Holding on to each other tight in the back of the truck, the girls waved their thanks to Kit and Daryl.

“You going with them? Or you want a lift back to Garvey?” she asked returning to stand by Daryl and Jesus. It was a straight question but he was obviously in need of some care himself so she hoped he wanted the offered lift but dreaded that he’d go with them.

In his heart of hearts he knew that he should go, check in on Maggie, let her see he was OK after her people had no-doubt reported seeing him in rough shape. But he couldn’t leave Kit. He wanted that lift. Wanted time. Wanted to take her home.

“We got a trade visit with you guys next week, right?” he asked. “I’ll tag along and check on the girls then OK?” Jesus looked questioningly between he and Kit, an unspoken query hanging in the air. Daryl figured his decision must appear strange, looking asrough as he must right now. Whatever was on Jesus’ mind, he thought better of it.

“Tell Maggie I’m alright and I’ll come see her next week.” Jesus nodded and shook Daryl’s hand vigorously, as they all had done, before climbing in the truck.

Daryl nodded, with a half-smile to the girls in the back as the truck swung around and he and Kit were left staring after them, as they made their way back to Hilltop.

\-----------------

The journey back to Garvey was uneventful and quiet. The dog in the back was probably sorely regretting not staying with the girls herself. These two were no fun at all.

Kit often felt sorry for the dog. She wasn’t a natural ‘dog person’, hated being slobbered and pawed. She’d found the dog as a pup at the Air force base, way back in the early days on her own. She had no idea how the pup had survived on its own when its mother had died but somehow she had. Maybe it had been very recent and the pup had just been incredibly lucky that help had happened along when it did. Either way, she wasn’t a dog ‘lover’ but she certainly wasn’t going to kill her and wasn’t going to leave her to suffer and die.

The pup had been friendly enough but still very young and malleable. Her first research job on the base had been dog training. There was a dog unit right there and all the equipment and manuals she could ever wish for. That base had been home for six months. It had been ‘basic training’ for both her and the dog. It was a big place and she was careful and clever. Groups would occasionally come by, looking for help, for order, for food, weapons, medicines, resources but they never looked hard, or long and they never looked everywhere. Kit was quick and quiet, if she was nothing else and those were the first and most important behaviours she passed on to the dog.

That place had been her access course, she’d figured out how to survive in this world and learned all the skills she’d need to do so, right there in the base library, the training rooms, the quartermaster’s store; where she’d read every set of instructions for every piece of equipment and taken only that which was simple, practical and portable. She’d found the landy in the garage of one of the base houses, another in a neighbouring house. She’d cherry picked parts and used the owners’ own obsessive collections of manuals to equip herself with one vehicle (and several spare parts) that could be easily maintained and repaired on the go.

She’d never been to university, never achieved much academically but when it counted she was a fast learner and that base had been her ‘life-skills’ college. She already knew how to hunt, shoot, fish, think strategically, plan logically. She was already an accomplished archer, used to camping out in the woods and roughing it with the best of them on whichever continent she happened to find herself at the time but now she was armed with next-level practical skills that would help her help herself.

She wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else, ever. She had everything she’d need and she knew how to use it all. If it all got taken and she had to start again from scratch, she could make what she needed with the knowledge she’d gained. Knowledge was power. Being quick and quiet, remaining under everyone’s radar and out of their sight was power. Knowing more about the guy in front of you than he knew about you was power. That base had taught her how to harness her own nerdy, obsessive, loner weaknesses and turn them into strengths.

And all that time, every day of those six months she’d known she wouldn’t stay. She couldn’t. She had somewhere to be. She was heading back to where she’d started. Back to Georgia. She’d known it was a long shot. He might have been bitten on day one, blown to high heaven when Atlanta fell, or more likely he’d gone to ground somewhere out of the way. There was practically no chance that she’d find him but she couldn’t sit still anyway. Had to keep moving. So she’d moved towards Georgia, to find the man who’d made her feel something, anything, for the first time in her life. And here she was now, sat right beside him. Tongue tied. No idea how to even start.

It had been ten minutes since they’d dropped the girls, ten minutes since Kit and Daryl had uttered a syllable between them. Daryl knew they’d be back in the town in a matter of minutes. He should take his opportunity and put the questions to her, make the offer, try and make it sound good. The longer he sat there in this weird uncomfortable, comfortable silence though, the longer he had to take her in.

He’d finally had the time to note the changes in her. There were a few obvious physical changes. The hair she’d apparently died fire engine red at some point after that day by the lake in Georgia. She was three years older of course. She looked better on it than he did though, he suspected. She’d be in her late thirties now but she still seemed so young to him. He’d never thought of her as a ‘girl’ rather than a woman but there was something youthful in her way. She’d lost a little weight. Who hadn’t. She still exuded strength and capability though and she still had her curves. She was still the only person he’d ever met that he’d been comfortable with from minute one and she still had the power to make him feel like he mattered.

Alexandria wouldn’t be an attractive prospect to her. He didn’t quite know how he knew that but he did. Daryl had always been observant. Had to be to survive, even before the dead started walking around like they owned the damn place. He’d thought he was pretty good at reading situations, reading people. His confidence in that ability had taken a knock or two but he was right about this, felt it in his bones. There was something about her composure, the way she carried herself.

Jesus and the rest of those guys from Hilltop had seen her before, made sly reference in their ‘thank you’s’ to the fact she was helping them out like she was a member of the community ‘in any case’. She hadn’t just traded with Hilltop, she’d been offered a place and refused. Jesus was no fool, he’d have spotted her for a good bet on first inspection, just as Daryl would have, if he’d met her for the first time today. Daryl was willing to bet she’d had the offer more than once.

To refuse security, the strength that numbers brought, again and again, that took a level of comfort with her abilities to survive in this world, on her own, that Daryl couldn’t quite fathom. He’d always prided himself that, if he needed to, he could survive out there alone. It’d break his heart now, if it came to that, because it’d have meant that everyone he’d come to care about was gone. It had damn near driven him to the edge last time it’d happened with the Governor attacking the prison. But he knew he could do it. That he didn’t NEED others to survive.

It wasn’t a theoretical certainty for her though, she was doing it. Had been for some time, he’d guess. No company but the dog, no safety, security or strength but what she made for herself but she was doing it. And from what he could see, she was smashing it in style. How the hell was he ever going to tempt her with a white picket fenced prison like Alexandria. He could barely stand it himself, only did so for the family he’d come to love. Speech of any kind, suddenly seemed impossible. He just couldn’t go back without her. That was not an option.

“You can take this car if you want.” She said out of nowhere, “Or there’s another on the east side of town, if you’d prefer an automatic.” She flashed him a knowing smile and he found himself half-laughing back. He would prefer an automatic, if there was a choice but if there was a choice he’d rather she was with him in it when he left. “You probably should take that one anyway, it’s got more gas, it’ll get you home, just about, I think.” She was thinking out loud now, he wondered if she did this when she was on her own too. “We can syphon the dregs from this one anyway, so you’ll have plenty actually.”

“Real little problem solver ent ya.” He found himself smiling at her and when she caught his eye he didn’t turn away or stop smiling.

Returning her gaze to the road, with difficulty, she answered “Always was.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He replied wistfully. “You ain’t even gonna consider comin’ back with me, to stay in Alexandria, are ya?” He surprised himself with the directness of the question but figured honesty was the best policy. He knew she had as low a tolerance for bullshit as he did.

“I’ve been.” That took him back a little. “Scoped it out for a day a month or so ago. Seems ….. nice.” That’s the word he’d have used too and in exactly the same tone. This was going to be impossible. He shook his head.

“I’ve been on my own for the best part of three years Daryl. I’d go insane surrounded by a bunch of ‘normals’ in a week. ” He had to laugh at that. “Present company excepted, of course.” She added, with a disarming smile. “Honestly, I’m not kidding. I can cope with a conversation when I have to trade. I managed to put my nature aside to deal with those girls and you knew me before the turn - I could have convinced whole rooms full of people that I was remotely like them but I’m really not. I’ve been on my own a long time now Daryl and I’m fine with it. I like it. It suits me just fine. Even the dog’s kind of a crowd sometimes, you know?... I’m a loner at heart, always was really and now it’s just safer that way too.”

He nodded, “I get it.”

“I know you do. You’re like that too.” Another glance, another affirmation. “I know you must have formed some strong bonds over the years to keep you stuck in a place like that and I get it. But I can’t live like it’s the old world again. It’s not.”

He nodded, he understood. “It’s not all ‘kumbaya’ and neighbourhood watch though. It’s not pretend. We seen some shit. We done some shit. Life’s hard everywhere Kit.”

“I know, I know. And I don’t want to say ‘no’ I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you, having only just found you. I’m just not ready for ‘Mayberry’.” She looked over to see him hang his head. “I can visit. I was already planning to sometime. Now I have a good reason.” Their eyes met and the positivity she was trying to force made him smile, despite himself. The most beautiful thing she’d seen all week… all month… for three years.

Turning her attention back to the road, with difficulty, Kit made a left. She was heading towards the east of the town but the corner was tight, as it was crowded with two crashed up cars. She’d shifted down but took the corner a little too fast and all of them rocked a little roughly to the right. Daryl winced as his leg hit the door. He’d been vaguely aware of a scratch there since the barn but it hadn’t affected him and he hadn’t thought to check it.

“What’s up?” asked Kit.

“Got stuck back there. Maybe the guy in the hallway got me ‘fore you got him. I dunno.” He looked up sharply and added “It ain’t a bite, don’t worry.”

“Not worried,” she said, trying to get a good look at the leg as Daryl examined it himself. “Not about that anyway. We need to check it out though, get you cleaned up.” She thought about the options for a fraction of a second. “I’ll take you back to mine. It’s not far and I’ve got everything we need to sort you out there.”

“It ain’t deep. Ain’t bled much.” He thought for a moment. As good as it would be to get back to Alexandria before dark; at this rate the only way she’d be with him would be if he knocked her out and dragged her there against her will. If he let her take him home and got cleaned up it would give him longer to work on her.

He’d struggled to exist in Alexandria himself, who better to convince her of the pro’s than someone who shared her con’s? “Could do with lookin’ at though, I guess.” He said.


	14. Chapter 14

They parked up four houses away from Kit’s base and she deliberately left the driver’s door half open. Nothing said ‘nothing to see here’ like an open door in this world. She let the dog out first, to do a circuit of the neighbourhood. She’d be quiet but she’d draw out any wandering dead, lead them away and then lose them. She was fantastic at it and it had saved Kit’s bacon a time or two.

Daryl opened his own door and tried to stand but the combination of the already busted up leg on top of the fresh cut to the same limb forced him to think twice before moving too fast. He’d pushed his luck with his leg already today and now he’d sat for a while with the new injury compounding it. He was in rough shape. He refused to let Kit take the heavy bag of guns but she insisted on taking his equally heavy crossbow and he had to allow her to provide her own body as a crutch on his bad side. She guided and supported him to the house and through the back door, knife at the ready at all times. She helped him up the stairs and on to the bed in the room adjoining her own walk-in-wardrobe base.

He’d tried not to lean on her too heavily but he knew that her apparent strength was genuine and he knew he needed it. She had no trouble lending him some stability. He’d noticed, as they entered the back door, some cleverly rigged home security. Although he could happily have done without the stairs, it made good sense to set up base above ground and all of this made him feel more secure about spending a little time here, trying to convince her to go back with him.

As they reached the top of the stairs he’d been met with the vision of several lines, strung across the hallway, festooned with lace topped panties of various colours and a couple of generous looking bras. He didn’t know where to look. His instinctive reaction was a knee jerk urge to check the chest by his side to gauge if these belonged to Kit but his memory of that first real sight of her curves, that moment by the lake, confirmed that they must and he fought the urge. He wasn’t a pervert, by nature and he didn’t want her thinking he was. He saw, through an open doorway, another entire room full of hanging clothes and a sleeping bag.

“Sorry about that, I wash everything I own the first day I arrive in a town.” She said by way of explanation “Having a stable base for a few days gives me time to do it and get it all dry before I move on.” That made sense he supposed “It’s all dry now though, should’ve packed it away yesterday, just laziness but I didn’t know I’d have an old friend visiting.” She smiled as she helped him through the door to the bedroom.

The bed was a generous king. Daryl dropped the bag and the crossbow by the end and with Kit’s help swung himself around to rest against the piled up pillows on the headboard end, with his legs stretched out on the firm mattress. Kit slid open the closet door and retrieved a bag that looked like a pretty hard-core medical kit. Resting the bag on the night stand she pinched the material of his pants’ leg between her thumb and fingers and asked “You’re not going commando under there are you?”

She wasn’t flirting or being funny, she sounded genuinely concerned that this might be an issue. Daryl thanked god that he was able to answer “Not today.”

After he’d taken the pain meds and anti-biotics she’d offered, he refused her help and with a little struggle and a lot of pain, was able to get his pants off by himself, while she got what she needed out of her bag.

The cut was not bad at all, it had bled a little and it was deeper than Daryl had thought but it hadn’t hit anything important. It cleaned up well and she stitched and dressed it quickly, with as little pain as she could manage. The rest of his leg showed signs of a fairly recent impact injury however and he needed to have it elevated and cooled down to reduce the inflammation.

She looked at him with a wordless query before getting on with what needed to be done. Stacking pillows under the leg, fetching cool water to pack around the joints. She found some frosty-freeze gel in the medical pack and massaged it all over his leg until she reached his mid-thigh. Then she handed the tube to him and he gratefully completed the job himself.

At some point during Kit’s ministrations the dog had popped her head through the door to see what was going on. She’d usually come back from her jaunts, via the ramp between the garage and the mid-stairs landing window (always left open for the purpose, as it was too high for the dead to reach), to find food and fresh water in her bowls. Kit wordlessly ushered her out of the room. She wouldn’t whine, she never did. She knew she’d get fed as soon as Kit could get to it. She returned to her station on the landing and lapped at the left overs of this morning’s water while she waited.

As Kit packed away the medical bag and turned to the door she asked if he was hungry and he said he was “fine”. She took that to mean he’d rather go without himself, than take food from a woman on her own surviving hand-to-mouth out here in the wild world. She was dead right.

She smiled to herself as she left the room; he was still the decent man she’d known, unwilling to allow himself to be any kind of burden. But he wasn’t too proud to take the shelter she’d offered without a word. He needed to rest up. They both knew it. He could have got in the car, driven home to Alexandria and let them tend to his leg if he really, really wanted to but he didn’t. It wasn’t necessary. He had somewhere safe to rest and she’d made it clear that she was happy for him to stay the night. Not a word had been exchanged but they both knew he was going nowhere, at least until morning.

 “I need to see to the dog and clean up before the sun sets.” She said from the door, like some kind of enigmatic reverse vampire or something. She told him she’d be back in half an hour or so. “We can talk some more then.” She added, as if they’d been chatting so far, rather than silently getting on with the task at hand, both too focussed and tongue tied to start a conversation.

Daryl kicked himself as she closed the door behind her. He needed to talk to her, needed to convince her to come home with him but he just couldn’t concentrate when she was nearby. He hated to see her leave the room, hated to lose sight of her but knew it was for the best. He needed to take this opportunity to try and think of arguments for her to go back to Alexandria with him.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining things but he thought he could hear a shower somewhere nearby. Well, that tore it. With Kit, somewhere close, just feet away from him taking a shower, he had no chance of focusing his mind. He found it wandering back to their first meeting and all the reasons why he desperately wanted her with him, when he returned to his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little one and it's quite similar to the original but it links to a long flashback. I'm going to save posting that until Tuesday night, as I still need to proof it. I hope this was enough to keep people interested until then. There's not much more 'familiar' material left now and then we'll be going totally 'off script' from the previous version.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for posting late. I'm afraid I've had some kind of weird virus and was completely incapable of doing anything last night as a result. Anyway, here's Daryl's take on things and I'm just going to post it in a oner, as I honestly can't be bothered to look through and break it up into more digestible chunks right now :)

Three years earlier…

“It’s a fuckin’ waste of time, is what it is.” Merle groused from the passenger seat. “They’re gon’ be a bunch o’ useless city folks, need their butts wiped out there mos’ prob’ly.”

Daryl remained quiet. Usually the best course of action with Merle. He’d work himself through the logic in time. No point helping him out with that, it’d just throw him off.

“And you know who’s gon’ be doin’ the wipin’ huh?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Us, that’s who.” He gesticulated wildly between himself and his brother to make his point. “Dumb asses gon’ be a liability out there.”

They were getting close to the store now and Merle began working himself up to meeting the rest of the group. It had been his drunken chat with the ‘adventure group’s’ local scout that had started all this in the first place and he’d been interested because it would pay and pay damned well. He’d remember that presently.

When Daryl had returned from the bathroom to find his brother listing off their combined skills, he’d reluctantly joined the conversation. The guy seemed OK and the work sounded far less like work than most of the jobs he’d taken in the past few years. Merle needed something to take his mind off the drugs and having used every dime Daryl had earned, during Merle’s last stint in the pen, to pay for his rehab after his release, they both needed the injection of cash.

Daryl wasn’t too keen on the whole idea himself. Always happier in his own company, or at most, in the company of a few old faces he’d gotten used to through years of acquaintance, he didn’t relish the idea of being stuck with a whole bunch of new faces. Strangers were strangers, whoever they were. He’d learned to hide it well, as he’d never get any kind of understanding or accommodation for it from Merle or his friends but Daryl was often crippled with anxiety, whenever he was thrown out of his comfort zone. He knew he made a gruff and prickly first impression because of it but there was really nothing he could do about that. He’d suck it up, as he’d had to suck up so much else in his life but he didn’t have to look forward to it. It just needed to be done.

When they parked up, Daryl had seen the little convoy coming and left Merle at the truck, to deal with the hand shaking and small talk; while he disappeared into the store to collect the next load of supplies and take his damn time working himself up to coming back out again. It hadn’t surprised him in the slightest to find Merle in the middle of one of his favourite lines of bullshit when he came out. Sucking all attention out of any room was definitely more his thing.

The woman had surprised him though. He’d looked up from his task, right into her inquisitive eyes. She stepped forward immediately, offering her hand and seeming genuinely open to wanting to get out of there and help out with the supplies. She was obviously pretty quick. She’d got a handle on Merle right off and seemed to find her own companions equally full of shit, so Daryl found it hard to take her assessment of Merle personally. He hoped she hadn’t jumped to any quick conclusions about him. He knew any first impression he made couldn’t be particularly good but he found himself actually wanting to make a decent one on her. Wanting her to like him.

He’d liked her on sight. Even more so when she opened her mouth. Whenever Daryl wasn’t out in the woods, working his ass off somewhere for a buck or getting dragged around bars or dealers’ with his brother, he was always to be found sat on his ass watching TV.

He’d never been much good at school but he found it much easier to take stuff in from TV shows. He liked old films, game shows and comedies, like everyone else but he loved nature documentaries and history best. PBS was his go-to channel and some of his favourites had always been those BBC shows and documentaries on constant repeat.

Their mom’s brother Kyle had served overseas for a while in the 80s. His absence, in the wake of the fire had left his nephews at the mercy of their father, as he descended to his worst possible self but their uncle had never lost touch entirely. He’d returned home after four years and brought home a treasure trove of tapes for his history, science and nature-loving nephew. Finding Merle long-gone and Daryl living in constant fear of violence at the hands of his own father, uncle Kyle had also brought a level of protection and control, which had more than likely saved Daryl’s life.

Daryl might never go to the jungles of Borneo or the Amazon himself, but David Attenborough had taken him along for the ride. Some crazy lookin’ old white haired guy, with a fuckin’ monocle, had taught him about the stars he often used to navigate by and an entire cast of British actors had played out most every interesting point in history and every Shakespeare play in his own front room. They’d also pointed out the ridiculousness of a lot of that history, as well as society in general and helped him learn to laugh at what he couldn’t change.

She didn’t sound like David Attenborough, or the crazy looking monocle guy but she was sure as shit from their neck of the woods. She might honestly be the most exotic thing he’d ever come across in real life and the thing that he liked most was that she was just like him. Didn’t appreciate no bull shit, sharp as a tack, kept her own council and didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. What wasn’t to like? 

She wasn’t too hard on the eye either and that might be a problem. Merle often got the mistaken impression that any woman alive would welcome some attention, if he graced her with it. He wouldn’t be likely to waste much time sounding Kit out and if she threw him over, like Daryl figured she almost certainly would, then she’d be in for some hard looks and some not-so-subtle insults.

Daryl was surprised to find that, after a full day in her company, Merle hadn’t made a move in her direction. He’d seen his brother eyeing up the other women, like meat at the market but he hadn’t thrown an appraising glance at Kit yet.

Not that he’d seen anyway. Maybe it’d already happened? Maybe before Daryl had come out with the supplies? Seemed unlikely though. Merle was being civil with her, polite even. Maybe the accent was throwing him off his game, or maybe he just knew he didn’t have a shot and wasn’t gonna try? That wouldn’t have stopped him before but Daryl had never seen Merle off the drugs for longer than a week before. Maybe a month on the waggon had made him a little smarter.

\--------------

“You see that Chrissy’s ass in them little shorts?” Merle asked as he climbed into his sleeping bag that night. “Mmmm mmm, man I had to take myself off for a little walk in the woods after that show.”

“Mmmm hmmm.” Daryl replied, knowing that his brother required some kind of answer but not wanting to encourage a whole discussion about it.

“I know you ain’t gon’ queer ma patch li’l brother but just so you know, if that girl’s up for somethin’ this week, it’s gon’ be with old Merle. You get me?”

“Yeah.”

“That Tanya’s a nice piece o’ ass too, ‘course.” Merle rumbled on. “An’ that prissy little limey bitch got a lot goin’ on up front. Them nice titties and that pretty mouth o’ hers an’ all.”

Daryl stiffened at the mention of Kit. He hated the thought of his brother cataloguing her ‘assets’, in his shopping list of female attributes on offer in camp but he knew he couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t defend any of these women against his brother. Couldn’t insist on any kind of respectful talk or the game would be on. Every time Daryl showed any kind of interest in anything or anyone that wasn’t Merle, or at least in Merle’s interest, he might as well be painting a huge target on whatever or whoever it was. Taking Daryl’s things and ruining them for him was one of Merle’s favourite games and Daryl had long since learned how not to give him an ‘in’.

Merle was all kinds of asshole but he wouldn’t push his luck with any of these women, not physically anyway. The most they’d get was a clumsy pass and an endless round of insults and insinuations when they knocked him back. Any sign of favouritism from Daryl would add fuel to Merle’s fire and put that woman at the top of his brother’s shopping list. He’d been careful not to single out Kit for any ‘special attention’ all day and would continue to show no particular interest in her, whenever Merle was around. It was best for all concerned.

“Plenty o’ nice pussy around, that’s for sure.” Merle continued. “You even listenin’ t’me ya little shit?” He grumbled. “Might as well o’ brought a plank of wood along with me on this thing. It’d show more interest in the skirt for sure.”

“You do what you want Merle, knock yourself out. Ain’t no skin off my nose.” Daryl replied. “None o’ those ladies gon’ look twice at ya though, just so ya know.” Daryl turned over, facing the tent wall and hoping for the end of this conversation.

“Hah! Ladies! …. Any one of ‘em be happy after five minutes o’ droppin’ their panties with old Merle li’l brother, don’t you worry ‘bout that. I know how to satisfy a woman.” He assured, “Ain’t like you know nothin’ about pussy anyhow. Just ‘cause y’all don’t got nothin’ goin’ on for your own self, don’t go thinkin’ I’m gonna live like no monk.”

‘Here we go.’ Thought Daryl.

“You even got a set of balls li’l brother? ‘cause I ain’t seen no evidence since I got out and not much evidence even before. I mean I KNOW you ain’t no virgin an’ all, old Merle took care o’ that for ya long time ago but I don’t know that if I hadn’t you EVER would have you know?”

Daryl ignored Merle’s rant.

“Nothin’….. nothin’ at all? No defense? No “What you try’na say Merle?” no “I ain’t fuckin’ queer if that’s what yer thinkin’ brother!”, no “You know right well I fucked that Sally an’ that Kerry an’ so on”, just nothin’ from Daryl on the subject.”

Daryl knew better than to answer.

“Alright, well I guess I didn’t need to worry about competition from you anyway, you ain’t no Brad Pitt or nothin’. But if you ain’t interested in chasin’ pussy then I really ain’t got no trouble. Not like any of these city nancy-boys got anythin’ t’ offer a woman. Woman needs a real man, ain’t no real woman goin’ for nothin’ short o’ a Merle in this camp.”

And thank god, that was Merle’s last word on the subject for that night.         

______________

Daryl spent the next few days doing what he’d been hired to and trying to keep Merle out of trouble. The work was easier than he’d expected. He’d expected people not to listen to him or respect his rules out in the woods but he found most of the guides to be respectful and happy to defer to him when he lead a hunt. The punters were pretty useless, as expected but they paid attention and didn’t tend to annoy him as much as he’d thought they would.

Keeping Merle out of trouble was a tougher prospect. He’d made a few contentious remarks among the other guides and he’d made a few comments among the punters that had been close to the knuckle and lost him some serious points. The ladies, who might initially have found him vaguely charming in an old fashioned, southern caveman kind of way, were now actively avoiding being stuck on their own with him. And Merle was starting to notice.

Resentment was always Merle’s worst enemy. He couldn’t stand thinking that anyone had the upper hand or thought themselves better than him. It ate away at him and made him supremely prickly and tough to deal with. He was better off the drugs than he had been on them and Daryl could see him trying to hold it together but it was a fine line.

Daryl was also painfully aware that there were drugs in camp. He’d thought it would be the best possible place to take his recovering brother. Middle of fucking nowhere, with a bunch of office-dwellers – ideal.

No, apparently not. It was clear to Daryl that two of the guys were tweakers. High functioning, obviously. They had their shit together and could apparently handle what they were using. Some people could. But he knew that if he’d spotted a couple of coke heads in the group then Merle had too. The fact that Merle had said nothing about it worried Daryl to distraction.

He made sure that those guys were never in the same group as Merle. By hook or by crook, he’d do his best to keep them apart but really that’s all he could do. If Merle wanted something bad enough, there was nothing he’d be able to do to stop him getting it.

On the one hand, Daryl wished that one of the women would just let him flirt with her a bit or something, to take Merle’s mind off it but on the other, he knew damn well that not one of those women would be capable of taking his shit with a smile for long. He’d overstep at some point, he always did and then all hell would probably break loose.

The only woman in camp who seemed to ‘get’ and be able to deal with Merle, was Kit but Daryl was still surprised to find that Merle wasn’t sniffing around her much. Whenever he spoke to her he seemed friendly, sometimes a little cheeky but to Daryl’s surprise, vaguely respectful and not in any way like the creepy-assed sexual predator he could sometimes resemble.

It helped that she’d kept right out of his way most of the time, right from the start. It didn’t take Daryl long to realise that he only found her accompanying his hunting parties when his brother was safely occupied somewhere else entirely. She was only ever in Merle’s company in the evenings, surrounded by the rest of the camp, or at breakfast, surrounded by the rest of camp.

On day three, Daryl came back buoyed by a good day’s work. He’d taken a small hunting party out first thing and stalked a deer for miles through the forest. The stag had been one of the biggest he’d ever bagged, a buck ninety at least and the group had been a perfect mix and done exactly as he’d asked. It had been a dream morning.

The others had hung back to let the experts take the deer down at the end but Kit had been a perfect partner out there. She was obviously hugely experienced, stalking in perfect silence by his side. She had her own bow and was a skilled archer. They’d both taken a shot and both hit their target. The deer had gone down quickly, with minimal suffering. Daryl couldn’t have asked for more.

For the long walk back to camp they’d cobbled together a makeshift carrying pole and taken turns to lug the animal over the uneven ground. The four punters had insisted on taking turns on carrying the deer, while Kit and Daryl carried the bulk of the gear and lead the way back to camp. The four newbie hunters were chattering happily behind, as Kit and Daryl walked back, for the most part, in comfortable, companionable silence. When they did exchange words, the conversation came easily and was unforced and un-stressful. Of all the people in camp, of all the people he’d met in his life – ever – she was by far the most comfortable to be with and the most interesting to talk to, with the possible exceptions of his mom and his uncle Kyle.

As camp came into view, Daryl was almost sad that this perfect morning, this precious time in her company, was at an end. With a heavy heart, he subtly hung back, during the last few moments, joining the larger group and the strung-up stag, letting Kit lead the group in on her own. He couldn’t afford to let Merle see him comfortable, friendly, happy, with Kit.

\---------------

“That was a nice bit o’ venison there li’l brother.” Merle said, slapping Daryl on the back. “Miracle you managed that with these ‘fairy elephants’ taggin’ along out there.” He added, pulling back the tent flap and flopping down on his sleeping bag.

“They were a pretty good bunch today.” Daryl replied.

“That so?” Merle sounded surprised. “Well, I guess that Kit know’s her stuff at least, by all reports, enough not to get in yer way when you went for the kill huh?”

“She got a shot in too. She’s the real deal.” Daryl winced to himself as he zipped up the fly screen, praying that he hadn’t said too much, sounded too complimentary.

“Hmm, that so?” Merle responded, not sounding too interested, luckily. “Well, thank Christ some o’ these assholes know their ass from their elbows I guess.”

Daryl flopped down on his own bed and began to unlace his boots. “Mmmm hmmm.” He agreed.

“She’s sure as shit one o’ the more useful ones in this place, that’s for damn sure.” Merle mused, absentmindedly as Daryl’s anxiety built. “Ain’t bad to look at neither but I don’t know ‘bout her.”

Daryl’s head snapped up involuntarily but luckily his brother didn’t seem to have caught the movement. “Can’t say for sure what it is. Somethin’s off. I can usually tell a dyke. Don’t know that it’s that. Just don’t have no feelin’ fer her you know?” Merle struggled to express what he meant. “It’s like, I can see all the candy laid out in the winder an’ I appreciate the look o’ the merchandise an’ all but I ain’t got no sweet tooth for it.”

Daryl had never been so relieved about anything for as long as he could remember.

“I mean, if it came to it I’d fuck ‘er. ‘course I would.” He added as a disgusting afterthought. “She’s a good lookin’ girl. I could definitely do her if I had to.”

Daryl closed his eyes and turned away to face the tent wall in silence.

“Don’ know why I’m tellin’ you.” Merle grumbled, making himself comfortable. “Might as well talk to the trees. They get a damn sight more wood lookin’ at the pussy in this camp than you do.”

Silence.

“Think I’m ‘na start workin’ on that Chrissy, think she might like a bit o’ old Merle.” He mumbled, "Bet I know which bit too." He chuckled to himself, drifting off to sleep.

Daryl smiled to himself. He’d still have to be careful around Kit but hopefully this meant that at least he didn’t have to worry about Merle embarrassing himself and Daryl by making a pass at her and making her uncomfortable around them both. He liked her, had to admit that now. He’d consider her a friend. Maybe even the first friend he’d ever actually chosen and made himself. Last thing he wanted was Merle bulldozing it with his big dumb mouth.

\------------

On day five Daryl’s hunting party was another decent mix. No Kit this time though. Merle had been supposed to be accompanying his group this morning and Kit had volunteered to cover a lesson in the basics back at camp, presumably to avoid Merle.

As it had turned out, Merle was on his period or something and didn’t want to join in, when they set out at first light. Daryl had left him still tucked up in bed, grousing about something or other. Daryl didn’t know what bug had crawled up his ass. Merle had come to bed late the previous night and hadn’t felt like sharing this morning. Whatever it was, Daryl could guarantee he’d find out later. Merle wasn’t one to keep anything to himself for long.

The rabbits had been jumping this morning, that’s for sure and his group had been happy with their haul. He’d spotted a trail and told them to head back without him. He knew the trail was old and it’d more than likely peter out to nothing but he just needed the excuse more than anything. Needed some time on his own.

Time alone was the one thing he craved most, these past few days and it was the one thing it was hardest to come by. He snagged a few more rabbits and headed for the lake. He was thinking to throw out a line for a bit but as he got nearer he realised that the rabbit over his shoulder had bled out a little on his shirt. As good an excuse as any, he decided he needed a bath anyway and stripped off his gear and boots to wade out and scrub some of the blood from his shirt.

As he reached waist depth, the cool waters stilled his mind and gave him a perfect moment of peace. He smiled in wonder as he found himself wishing that Kit was here to share it. Shaking off the strange thought, he yanked off his shirt and scrubbed at the stain.

He had the strangest sensation of being watched but he knew the other hunting party was on the other side of camp, everyone back in camp was occupied for the morning, except a few of the punters with free time and maybe Merle.

Much as he knew his brother fancied himself a hunter, he also knew there was no-one quiet and capable enough to sneak up on him. He’d hear any one of them, including Merle, coming from two hundred yards away. It was probably the damned deer, he thought to himself with an amused laugh, as he flopped back to dunk the rest of his body in the cool water.

\--------------------

It didn’t take Daryl long to dry off, as he threw out a line on the little boat jetty near his bathing spot. He wasn’t wearing underwear, so it was just a case of waiting for his pants and shirt to dry against his skin.

The rabbits may have been jumping today but the fish sure as shit weren’t. He didn’t care, it was nice to just chill out, if that was the right phrase for this searing heat. He gave up the ghost and collected his gear together, making his way along the bank to find his favourite route back towards camp.

Reaching the rockier part of the shoreline, Daryl rounded a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Kit.

She was twenty feet out and hearing his approach, was already aware of his presence and turning to face him. He hadn’t seen anything more than her head and the vague shape of her body, close to the surface but he’d known it was her instantly. Who else would be out here on their own? None of the girlie-girls back at camp, that’s for damn sure. They only seemed capable of going anywhere in pairs.

Spying her clothes on the rocks, he’d immediately made his apologies and turned to leave. He wasn’t no peeping Tom and he didn’t want her thinking he was. He liked her too much to ruin it with her thinking he was trying to take advantage of her or something of the sort. When she’d called him back and asked for his help, he was happy to oblige. It showed that she had accepted his presence for the accident it was and that she still trusted him as a colleague and maybe a friend(?).

As she swam closer, he began to regret offering to help though. Although he hated himself for it, he could almost hear Merle whispering filth in his ear. In just a few seconds, she’d be inches from him and wearing a soaking wet, skin tight set of underwear. She did possess an epic rack for a small framed woman and Daryl found it difficult to put the idea of the image of her, half naked and slick with water, to the back of his mind.

He had always tried to be a better man than his brother, as far as shit like this was concerned. Tried not to make up stupid fantasies in his head about girls he knew. Tried not to fantasise about unlikely scenarios where they might want him back, despite knowing for a fact that they just thought of him as trash. But he found that when it came to Kit, he just couldn’t ignore the messages from the ‘dick’ part of his brain, as he could when it came to Chrissy or Tanya or literally any other woman he’d met – ever.

Shaking himself out of his stupid fantasy, he reached for her hand and on three, he’d pulled her out. The plan had been to let go immediately, pick up his stuff and go, saying his goodbyes as he walked away, with his back turned to her. He didn’t want to see her in her skivvies, didn’t want to think of her that way. The way Merle might. Like a thing to be looked at, ogled, used for his pleasure.

It hadn’t gone like that at all. Her body had made contact with his. Somehow his hand had ended up resting on her hip, the lace of her panties delicate under his electrified fingers. Their eyes had locked and held and Daryl had no idea what was happening between them but he knew that he wanted more from her than friendship right now. He wanted those gorgeous, full, juicy lips. The breath stalled in his chest as he felt himself drowning in her eyes.

Only a gunshot could have torn him from her, in that moment and it did. Daryl had run but not before sweeping his gaze over her body, as he backed out of the clearing. He’d kicked himself for that mentally, the second he’d done it but nothing on earth could ever remove the image now seared into his brain.

Despite his warning to be careful, he’d seen her barrelling into camp just minutes after him, still dripping from the lake. It was her presence that had made him decide he couldn’t risk Merle getting loose. After the punch, things got calmer but they had to leave. There was no way around that. No one was going to stand for Merle being around any longer and Daryl could see why.

With her kindly-meant words at the truck, Kit had given him some hope. It had been a long ass time since Daryl had felt useful, appreciated or remotely understood. He felt most of that from certain members of the group but he felt all of it from Kit all the time. He felt like she knew him and he felt like maybe that road went both ways.

She’d given him hope that there was something out there for him, outside of Merle’s shadow and she gave him hope that her confidence, in his ability to take that chance, was justified. She’d also given him a glimmer of hope that that moment by the lake had meant something to her too. Maybe her offer, to catch up when she got back from Texas, was more than just professional or friendly interest? Maybe.

Daryl had spent a lot of sleepless nights wondering about that in the days and weeks that followed. He’d played it out in his head, every possible way. He could never know what the lake had meant to her or what she’d meant by her offer. All he could know was himself.

He’d faced the truth at about the time he was beginning to realise that the world really was going to hell. He’d given in to the truth, as he took himself in hand, in the darkness of his own room and pictured her, Just as she’d looked that day. The body he’d seen: small but strong, soft but fit for anything life threw at her, slim but with epic curves in all the right places. Slick with water and glistening in the full midday sun. Wrapping a towel around her, those big, dazzling, grey-blue eyes, full of concern and looking right at him. Right into his soul. Beautiful. Who needed a centrefold with an image like that burned onto their retinas.

Who had he been kidding? He knew now that he’d wanted her from the start. He’d liked her as a friend but since the lake he’d lusted after her body like a man that wanted far more than friendship.

He thought about her, just like Merle would. Hated himself for it, even as he orgasmed, releasing a pained howl into his pillow, as he created a puddle next to him on the mattress.

But mostly, on those sleepless nights, he thought about staring into her eyes and wanting more than friendship and thinking that just for a fraction of a second, maybe he’d seen that wanting echoed back from her. Maybe.      

And then the tears would come, for a woman he would never see again in this life. A woman he might have loved and had certainly, desperately wanted. Realisation had come too late and now he’d missed his chance of having a woman in his arms who might possibly have been persuaded to love him back. After the tears, came sleep and dreams of holding her close at the lake. Always at the lake.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry - I've been sick all week. Hopefully this will help for now but I'll try to post another one up in the next day or two and get back in sync for next week.

Kit had rigged up the shower in the main bathroom. It was squeezed between the two kids’ rooms and the adjoining house. It had no exterior pipework or windows, so any plumbing sounds were always well insulated from dead ears meandering past. The solar showers were her favourite luxury. She didn’t have a shower every day and always tried to conserve enough water for real ‘covered in dead juice’ showering emergencies but it had rained hard all night the past two days and she had more than enough, for a week’s worth of showers, collected in the water-butts of the three neighbouring houses and the two filtering barrels down stairs. She deserved some luxury today, she decided.

This was her favourite part of the day, her luxury to look forward to and not even having company next door was going to make her cut it short. Daryl needed rest anyway.

This luxury had taken planning and it was a chore but it was worth it. She’d sat the three water filled packs on the porch roof all day, catching all the warm sun that the southern aspect of the house could provide. She’d brought them to the bathroom one at a time, climbed the step ladder and sat them on the board, she’d prepared as a platform for them, above the shower cubicle. She’d carefully positioned them so the nozzles hung through the drilled holes, climbed down, unclothed and showered in pretty nice warm water. Heaven.

Each bag contained ten litres of water. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough, if she was careful and set them off one at a time, to wash her body and her hair. Not as thoroughly as she’d like but enough to keep her human.

After her shower she’d scooped most of the water out of the container she stood in, collecting the brown water, emptying it into the large water-butt filter system she’d made. She had a lot of reserve water but it didn’t pay to waste resources. It would create at least enough clean water for two or more of the solar shower packs tomorrow. The remainder, she poured into the toilet cistern, as there may be a need for more than one flush tonight and there was only one flush worth of waste water in the bucket by the toilet. Housekeeping tasks completed, she towelled down and used her, now less than half-charged, epilator to de-fuzz. This might be the apocalypse but that was no reason to drop your standards, Kit smiled to herself as she finished off her regimen, covering herself in moisturiser.

Her mind wandered, as she rubbed in the ‘high end’ body butter she’d picked up from a mansion (no other word for it) three towns ago. The man next door had opened up her memories and she’d found herself thinking again about the woman she used to be.

Three years earlier…

“Chrissy’s calmed down some.” Donna commented, joining Kit by the fire. “That coffee?”

“Tea.” She replied. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

“You OK?” Donna asked, sitting in the camp chair next to her.

“Me?” Kit looked up in surprise at the other woman, who she shared a tent with and had come to regard as a good companion in the past few days. “Of course, nothing happened to me, why wouldn’t I be?” It hadn’t really been a question but Donna took it on face value.

“Thought you might be upset, you know, with what happened.”

“No, it’s just playground stuff at adult level isn’t it.”

“Oh yeah, well the thing with Merle, yeah, sure.” She shrugged “I meant Daryl.”

Kit looked over confused. “Daryl? What did he do?”

“Nothin’ I don’t wish I’d done first.” She laughed. “But he left.”

“Didn’t have much choice in that did he?”

“No but he was a nice guy. Decent. Not like his boneheaded, Neanderthal brother.” Kit nodded, she couldn’t disagree with that and it didn’t surprise her that Donna had noticed too. She was there to keep the plates spinning in camp and part of that was being a shrewd judge of character. “And you like him.”

Kit almost spat out her tea. “Wh…what?”

Donna laughed. “Don’t come the innocent with me girlie. You’re not exactly an open book – in that sense I guess you two are a perfect match – but anyone with eyes could see you two tip-toeing around some pretty explosive chemistry there hon.”

Kit became suddenly fascinated by her tea, as she tried to get her head around this conversation.

“Did you do anything about it?” Donna asked. “I sure hope so, ‘cause girl… that boy was fine!”

Donna’s tone forced Kit to laugh at her assessment and the other woman took it as encouragement.

“Well did you?... Enquiring minds need to know.”

“No.” Kit responded with a half-smile at her persistence. “We were just friendly.” She admitted. “I liked him. He was…. real.”

“Real fuckin’ hot is what that man is.” Donna grumbled, shaking her head. “Hottest part is he don’t know it. What a waste.”

Donna caught the shy blush creeping over Kit’s face. She’d gotten pretty good at masking her feelings but tonight her guard was having a nap apparently.

“He was a funny fish though. Acting like he didn’t care but any fool could see you two fit like a hand in a glove…. Think maybe he was trying not to let his brother see that he liked you.” She nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Cute AND smart…. The full package.” She mused.

“Honestly Donna, we were just friends.”

“Naaah, you were ‘behaving friendly’. Don’t mean you were ‘just friends’. That boy LIKED you, and you LIKED him. Don’t give me no ‘friends’ bull shit. I ain’t buyin’.”

Kit shook her head “Doesn’t matter anyway, they’re gone.”

“You give him your number?”

“Don’t have one yet.” She blurted, without thinking.  “I…er….no, I.. I told him how to reach me when we finish up here.” She admitted. “I thought there might be a spot for him on that trip next month.” She offered as an excuse.

“Then you better tell me too sweetheart ‘cause I wanna hear what happens next and I’m tellin’ you, that fine slice o’ ass ain’t done with you yet.”

\-------------

Pulling on her semi-clean night clothes, Kit emptied the boil-in-the-bag rice and the contents of a giant catering can of Stagg chilli into the waiting saucepans on the camping stove at the end of the bath. The water had been at a rolling boil before she’d thrown in the rice and she’d scooped out two mugs full of water for tea, before throwing in the bags. She added a tea bag to each mug and sugar to one. Once the smell had reached perfection she scooped out the bags, covering the mugs to keep the contents hot and put the bags back on the drying rack by the stove. She’d get another cup out of each she reckoned.

She smiled at the thought of ‘catching up’ with Daryl. It had taken three years and she’d honestly never imagined that it would ever actually happen but Donna had been right. He hadn’t been done with her yet, any more than she had been done with him. She’d finally got her chance to see him again. She daren’t hope that he was still free - three years on, a man like that - but it hardly mattered, she was such a useless flirt anyway. She was really just so glad to see him again, she’d take what she could get. She looked forward to catching up with her old friend. She’d be perfectly content with friendship now. Absolutely content. Definitely.


	17. Chapter 17

Daryl woke with a start as he became aware of something having been laid down on the night stand by his head. He was a little bewildered to find himself in the room and embarrassed to have fallen asleep so quickly in unfamiliar and potentially dangerous surroundings. He also silently berated himself for falling asleep, rather than thinking through his arguments.

Taking in his surroundings; the room was getting darker and he guessed that the sun had definitely passed over the other side of the house and it must be late afternoon by now. The thing that had been set down on the night stand was a bowl of steaming chilli and rice. The smell shot straight through him and his mouth watered instantly. There was a fork in the bowl, sticking up at an inviting angle and a tin mug of some kind of brown liquid that wasn’t coffee next to it. He’d said no to Kit’s offer of food. Perhaps this was for her. He daren’t touch it but longed to.

He didn’t need to hold back for long, Kit reappeared then with a bowl and mug of her own, which answered his un-asked question.

“Oh good, I didn’t want to wake you but you must need something to eat by now.” She said as she walked around and settled cross-legged on the other end of the wide bed, resting her mug on the flat topped footboard. “This is tea.” She said indicating the mug. “I don’t have any coffee but it’s REAL tea, none of that Liptons bollocks.”

Daryl smiled at her. “I forgot.” He said.

“What?”

“That you were such a tea nazi.” The smile was cheeky and Daryl found that he couldn’t look away, as he teased her. He loved to see her laugh.

“Haha, well that’s a bit harsh but you have to be particular about something and life’s just too short for shit tea.” She replied with a smile.

He nodded his agreement. That was all the invitation Daryl needed. He could have managed on an empty stomach but she obviously had enough to spare, if she could be so nonchalant about the giant portion sizes she’d given them both.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d want sugar or not but there’s a couple of sachets there and a spoon if you do.”

Trying the tea, he figured it definitely needed sugar. There were three packets next to the mug and he put in two, stirring it well. He was pleasantly surprised when he tried it again and thought he could get used to this REAL-tea shit.

“My little treat to myself.” She said, noting his approval. “I do miss milk in it and I have to ration myself, ‘cos it won’t last forever but I think we both deserve a cuppa today.” She smiled at him and took a sip of her own. He hadn’t realised what a luxury the drink had been but he guessed it was obvious that her ‘real’ tea was going to be a rarity these days and he was suitably honoured that she’d included him in her treat.

“Thanks – it’s good.” He intoned truthfully. She deserved real thanks. He’d never met anyone since the turn that would be so generous and trusting on sight. Even though she knew him before and he’d rather cut off his own arm than hurt a hair on her head. She couldn’t know that, couldn’t know anything about him for sure.

No one had ever been this welcoming to him, right off the bat, in his entire life and though it should have been strange and he should have felt wary of it; it wasn’t and he absolutely didn’t. She may have been through some shit and there may be differences from the woman he’d met in Georgia but everything she did was genuine. Daryl was sure she was still essentially who she’d always been and he’d have trusted her with Judith, never mind with his own life.

He hoped that she was being this way with him because she could somehow tell that, under his gruff exterior, he was still a decent guy and meant her no harm. He hoped she knew he’d always been that guy and no woman had ever had anything to fear from him. Her confidence in him had once made him want to be better than he was, made him want to prove her right. After the rough times of the past couple of years, with her presence, he felt that urge surging back.

Daryl had a tendency to wolf down food, like he’d been starving in a dungeon for weeks, or someone was about to take it away from him if he didn’t get it all down in two minutes flat. Of course, that all stemmed from knowing what real hunger was, from an early age and from really having to get his meals down in two minutes, if he wanted to avoid one of his pop’s legendary mealtime meltdowns, or Merle helping himself to what he wanted from Daryl’s plate.

He’d tried to reign it in at Alexandria, as he’d caught the looks people gave each other when they ate with him. No one had cared on the road but they sure as shit noticed in their fancy suburban dining rooms. He’d been thrown back into the deprivations of his youth for a while, after Negan’s arrival on the scene and maybe that had set Alexandria’s ‘civilising influence’ back a little. Whatever the case, he definitely didn’t want Kit being put off Alexandria by his terrifying table manners, so he took his time over the chilli and tried to savour it. He still ate way faster than anyone at home would have but then, he noted, so did she.

“You from a big family?” he asked indicating her, already almost empty, bowl. She looked up, surprised at his sudden question. She laughed, understanding his meaning.

“Hmm, no. I was an orphan. Grew up in care homes and foster families. Mealtimes were sometimes a bit of a free-for-all and I just liked to get it over with quick.” She looked pointedly at his bowl. “What’s your excuse?”

It was a surprise to them both that, despite already being acquainted and having been more comfortable in conversation with each other than anyone else at the time, they still knew so little. They talked for two hours. Back and forth, questions and answers. Neither of them held back, they were candid and honest. Each aware that the other had an in built bullshit-ometer and didn’t appreciate dishonesty.

By the time darkness was upon them in earnest, Daryl knew a fair bit about her background, her startlingly varied previous jobs and travels. She’d told how she’d augmented her skill set and taught herself what she needed at the Air Force base, where she’d also found and trained the dog.

The dog had come to join them, at some point and Kit had spooned the last of the chilli (Daryl couldn’t quite believe there had been more – how big was the can!!!) into a bowl for her to finish as her second supper. As the dog settled by Daryl she nuzzled his hand, testing if he might be more up for petting than Kit usually was. Daryl petted the dog (making her day) absentmindedly, as he resumed their conversation.

She’d told him about her previous groups and her reasons for bailing on them. She’d obviously made the right choices, he thought and he wondered but didn’t ask questions which might have identified it, if the train terminal group had been the same ‘Terminus’ where he’d almost lost his own life. He made the quick decision that he didn’t want to know and that if it had been their Terminus, neither would she. She didn’t need to know what had happened to those people, what they’d become after she left. If they were the same Terminus, then she’d made a good call and had a close escape. He’d hidden his reaction to that part of her story well, fussing over the dog to cover any tell-tale signs. He decided that whatever happened, he’d never tell her about the name of that group.

He did however, share much of his ‘family’ group’s journey so far, even the Terminus chapter, he just left out the name and the type of complex it had been. He avoided the less savoury aspects of their dealings with the Saviours and Negan but didn’t shy away from telling her about the herd that had over-run Alexandria and how they’d struggled to survive it. He told her how he’d picked up his leg injury and about his & David’s disastrous run in the neighbouring town, that had ended in the other man’s death, Daryl’s injury and him bumping into the group from Hilltop (and their ensuing drama) while looking for a vehicle to get him home.

He’d given brief descriptions of his ‘family’ and a rough sketch of some of the ‘types’ in the town. She’d asked a few questions, broached the question about Merle and seemed genuinely sorry to hear his answer. He’d answered every question honestly but had avoided details about his earlier life. She’d noticed but didn’t press, as he’d noticed but hadn’t pressed her avoiding detail with regard to her own upbringing.

As darkness fell, they would need to take this tête-à-tête elsewhere, if they were going to continue. Kit didn’t want to give away their position to any roving eyes, dead or alive.

“If you’re tired then you should get some sleep out here. We can talk again in the morning, if you like but if you want to carry on tonight then we need to move in there.” She indicated the closet where she’d retrieved her stuff earlier.

Daryl was in a quandary. This was the first comfortable conversation he’d had in god knows how long. It wasn’t about survival or a discussion about what to do about some nasty situation they had to deal with. It wasn’t a political negotiation or an attempt to defuse some kind of grievance. It wasn’t even like any talk he’d had prior to the world going to shit – even with her. It was just two people, shooting the shit, getting to know each other. He could have talked with her all night but he dreaded moving from this bed. His leg was bearable now but it would cause agony if he moved a muscle. Which was a bitch, ‘cause he really needed a piss.

It was like she read his mind as she suddenly got up and took charge. “Actually, you know what, I don’t think there’s a choice to be made really.” She collected up the plates and cups and made her way towards the door. “You shouldn’t move while your leg is still trying to ‘knit’, you stay there.” She disappeared and Daryl cursed the receding sun, knowing damn well he had a long way to go before he convinced her to give Alexandria another thought.

She returned with a bowl and a large red plastic storage jar of some kind. “You likely to need more than a number one during the night?” She asked bluntly, passing him a second dose of pain killers and a water bottle. He shook his head warily. “OK, well if you do, there’s a flushable toilet in the main bathroom.”

Kit described where it was and that the tank was already full and ready for use, if he needed it in the night but that he should wake her if he needed help. “It’s really fucking dark in here when the sun goes down and I’d rather help you to the bathroom than have to scrape you off my stairs tomorrow morning, or worse still; deal with a fucking dead man trying to eat me in my sleep because you broke your neck.”

They both smiled at the thought and Daryl promised he wouldn’t try to ‘butch’ it out. Kit knew she’d hear him fumbling about long before he could get far enough to hurt himself anyway, so she let him have the illusion that he’d have a choice in that matter.

She handed him the bowl, half full of water, with a flannel and a still packaged toothbrush and paste. “You can bed-bath yourself if you want. Up to you but I know I’d want to. That water bottle’s yours. There’s a blanket right next to you there, if you get cold in the night and this..” she held up the plastic jar in her hand “is your bed pan.” She smiled “Aren’t you lucky to have been born a boy!” He nodded his agreement as he gratefully took the jar from her.

She gave him some privacy with the last ten minutes or so of daylight, while she checked the house, settled the dog for the night and took care of her own ablutions in the bathroom.

When she returned, Daryl had made use of the jar, washed the worst of the previous two days’ grime from his face, torso and under-arms and brushed his teeth. Teeth were damn useful and he planned to keep his in decent shape, so you could say what you liked about the frequency of his showering but when Daryl Dixon had access to a tooth brush he damn well used it.

He hadn’t buttoned his shirt back up by the time she returned but he realised that, as he could only just make her shape out in the darkened room, she was unlikely to be able to make him out either. She made her way quietly to the closet door, perhaps thinking he was already asleep. “G’night Kit.” He whispered huskily “and thanks again.”

She crawled into her bed, leaving the closet door ajar for the first time since she’d ‘moved in’. He could hear the smile in her voice “No worries Daryl, I’m glad you’re here, you sleep well. Na-night.”

There was something so comforting and warm about the way she said it, the way she said everything, her mere presence in the blackness of the room and the sincerity of her words that put him at ease and helped him drift off to sleep almost instantly. He had no idea that she felt the same way and neither of them had a clue just how much each already meant to the other.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Kit was a light sleeper, as was Daryl but they had an uneventful night and both slept surprisingly well; considering it was the first time Kit had slept in the same room as another human since well before the shit had hit the proverbial three years previously. She’d managed to sneak out of the room and go off to deal with her various morning housekeeping chores, without waking him too. She was glad of that. He obviously needed the rest after the past forty-eight hours and the numerous batterings his body had endured in that time.

Daryl woke with a start, surprised to find the sun well up and to hear movement in the house. He panicked for a second, imagining that there could be walkers inside but quickly noticed that the closet door was wide open, revealing an empty single mattress.

Despite his literal ‘knee-jerk’ reaction to the noises, he also noticed that his leg was feeling much better, even though it must have been several hours since his last round of pain meds. He took stock of the pain and its severity before throwing back his next round and washing them down with water. With nothing else to do, he took a piss in the (now pretty ripe smelling) jar, replacing the lid carefully as it threatened to overflow and brushed his teeth again.

Daryl was just considering whether he could make it to the shitter unaided, without ripping his stitches, when Kit appeared at the door.

“Oh, you’re up.” She smiled and approached the bed. “How’s the leg?”

“Much less like shit.” He responded finding a half-smile for her. She’d been nothing but nice, nothing but straight with him, she didn’t deserve anything less than his best behaviour, even this early in the morning and he found himself more than ready to give it in her case. “Thanks to you.” He added.

“I’ve got some porridge on the go down stairs. It’ll be ready soon. I’ve got water, tea or juice boxes of orange, apple or pear to go with it…. Preference?” she asked.

“Whatever you’re having is fine.” He replied, still a little overawed that someone out here on their own was so well provisioned that she was here taking his breakfast order. “I could do with a hand though.” He mumbled sheepishly, bizarrely embarrassed to have to ask her to help him to the bathroom.

She got his meaning instantly, understood his embarrassment and saved his blushes “I thought you might want to wash up properly this morning, so I’ve filled the bathroom sink with hot water and the cistern’s topped up too – just in case. Shall I help you to it on my way back for brekkie?”

He nodded and allowed her to support him as he swung his legs painfully off the bed. She made him wait on the edge, until the pain passed, before helping him to rise. He definitely needed her support right now but he could feel that, once the stiffness had passed, he’d be able to walk well enough by himself. The cut was in the background already, he could feel that it was heeling well and doubted he’d even have much of a scar to show for it in a few months’ time. If he lived that long.

Dropping Daryl off at the bathroom, Kit made her way down stairs, leaving him to his own devices. She dished out their breakfasts, dropping the pan in the kitchen sink. She had a collection of pots in there from the previous two days. She smiled to herself “Such a slob Kit!” She returned the larger pan, she used for boiling her filtered water before use as drinking water, to the burner, collected their bowls and returned upstairs. The dog had already eaten and gone out for her morning recce, so she looked forward to another uninterrupted talk over their meal, wondering what tack he’d take to try and win her over.

She’d never missed human interaction. Aside from her brief chats with people she’d thoroughly recce’d before trading with, she hadn’t had a real conversation like last night’s for two years or more. Even then, the chat had never been as long or as comfortable as it had been with Daryl.

Kit was beginning to remember just how strong her feelings for him had been back then. She’d put them to one side at the camp, barely registered them consciously when he’d actually been present but she’d felt his loss, like a hole in her chest, from the minute he left until the moment she found him again yesterday.

It’d got worse after Donna had made her think about it. Made her acknowledge it, to herself at least. She’d thanked god then, that she’d told him to call Scott to get her number. While at the same time being terrified of how to deal with the way she felt about him now, if she ever did meet up with him face to face again.

And here she was, three years later and in exactly that position. Nothing had changed. The longer she was in his company the more she remembered the feelings he’d unlocked, the way he’d made her want, like she’d never wanted before.

Last night’s conversation had presented the interesting revelation that there was no one in his ‘family’ group that he’d identified as a girlfriend or a wife; or a boyfriend either for that matter. There was a man he called ‘brother’, another one that he’d recently lost. There were women that he talked about like ‘sisters’; Carol, Maggie, Michonne, who he’d known the longest. Children; Judith and Carl that were ‘like blood’ to him. Newer men and women that he hadn’t known as long but still identified as family. He’d given names. Talked about their strengths and little personality quirks, was obviously attached to them. But he hadn’t singled anyone out as ‘his’.

He was still free; both an exciting and a terrifying prospect. As she made her way back to their room – ‘their’ room?? – she tried not to think about him washing in the bathroom, just feet away. Tried not to let her mind wander back, to that glimpse of an unguarded moment, bathing in the lake. Tried not to get upset about the scars she’d seen, or to dwell too long on the ‘perfect specimen’ those marks defiled.

She’d tried to block just these things out so many times in the days and weeks following that day by the lake. She knew that Donna had noticed her restlessness at night. She knew that everyone else must have been vaguely aware of her total apathy about the trip from that day on. They must have noticed her daydreaming.

She’d been so unprofessional towards the end, she’d expected to receive a call from Scott, while she was in Texas, telling her her services wouldn’t be needed at the next Georgia camp. She hadn’t though. He seemed mellow when she called him from the airport to give him her contact information and ask him to pass it on to Daryl Dixon if he got in touch.

“Actually, any of the guides.” She’d added, not wanting to single him out especially and not caring either way if any of the others wanted to reach her too. “But not Merle Dixon.” She specified. “Definitely don’t give my number to Merle …. Just Daryl… if he happens to call.”

“You got it.” Scott had replied breezily. “See you back here next Sunday.”

As Kit rang off Lisa had leapt on her instantly.

“OK, what the hell is a ‘Merle’ when it’s at home but firstly and MOST importantly – who is Daryl Dixon?”  

She’d been beside herself with joy to finally have a ‘girlie’ chat about a ‘boy’ with Kit. “He’s hardly a boy.” Kit had grumbled. “And I’m hardly a girl.”

As Lisa persisted during their hour long drive out to her home Kit tried, at first, to convince her that he was ‘just a friend’, as she’d done with Donna. But as Lisa was the closest thing she had to a ‘best friend’ on this particular continent, and as she’d known Kit and her total lack of interest in the opposite sex (or any sex, full stop) for ten years or more, that argument was about as successful with Lisa as it had been with Donna.

During the next twenty-four hours Lisa had teased some details out of her, as she’d tried to enjoy some downtime with her and her family before the course. Lisa had been beyond ecstatic to find that Kit did have a heart and some sort of romantic appetite after all these years. For Kit though, the revelation of her feelings was just that. She hadn’t consciously thought about any of this until after the lake, after he was gone and now he was making her feel all these weird wants and needs, she’d never experienced before, and she didn’t even know if he liked her, in even remotely that way,  at all. And she didn’t know if she’d ever see him again.

On their last night together before Kit’s course, Lisa had suggested a girlie pampering night; which to a pair of eternal tom-boys, meant drug store face packs, dying each other’s hair crazy colours and drinking lots of wine and gin while they did it. Lisa had packed her husband and two small kids off to his mum’s for the night and they’d had the place to themselves. It reminded Kit of their nights in their digs while working on the farm near Wellington in New Zealand. Their accommodation should have been condemned, or at least come with a health warning but it had seen some of the happiest times of her life.

At some point in the evening Lisa had steered the conversation back to Daryl, the ‘mystery man’. Even in her drunken state, Kit was guarded, even with one of her oldest friends, afraid to reveal this vulnerability.

“You’ve never felt this way before have you?” Lisa asked suddenly. Perhaps finally realising, for sure, something she’d only vaguely clocked previously.

Kit shook her head and drained her glass. Lisa nodded. “Well, guys aren’t as complicated as we give them credit for.” She said. “Don’t let anything scare you off if you like him. You deserve to have whatever you want in this life love.” She smiled sweetly at Kit and somehow it was easier to accept that look through the reflection in the mirror. The half bottle of wine and five gin and tonics had probably helped too.

Lisa didn’t push any further. Perhaps she could tell that Kit was on the precipice of what she could handle right now. “Now let’s see what ‘shocking red’ looks like.” She said, unveiling Kit’s new hair with a dramatic flourish.

They’d both laughed until they cried when they discovered they’d bought permanent colour. Kit with her ‘shocking red’ locks and Lisa with her ‘electric blue’. They didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time they’d done something stupid that would make them stick out like a sore thumb. Just the first time they’d done it as supposed ‘sensible’ mid-thirties ‘ladies’.

“How the actual fuck am I going to explain this to the kids?” she’d squealed “Or Brad!” She stopped and gave a theatrical intake of breath “or the fucking monster-in-law!!!”

With fuzzy heads and contented smiles all round, Lisa had dropped her at the meeting point the next morning. They wouldn’t see each other again this trip. Lisa was on vacation with the family, as of the next day and Kit would be flying straight back to Atlanta after the course. 

“It was great to see you again Kitty-cat.” Lisa hummed as she hugged Kit hard.

“You too, you terrible lush.” Kit smiled as they broke the hug. “You always were a bad influence on me.”

“Hah, right back at you.” Lisa shouted as she climbed back in the car. “Hey, let’s not leave it so long next time. Two years was two years too long.” She winked through the window. “Bring ‘dishy Daryl’ next time. I need to inspect.”

Kit flushed at her words but as she’d already pulled off, there was no response she could give. She waved her friend off, as Lisa turned the car around and headed home. She fully intending to sign up for any future courses in Texas, two years had definitely been too long.

She spent the next five nights thinking of nothing but her new feelings for Daryl. When they’d returned to civilisation, only to find that there was precious little of it left, she’d thought of little but Daryl. She’d tried to call Scott, Donna, anyone. To check on them, of course but mostly to get his number. Mostly to check on Daryl, hear his voice again.

She hadn’t reached anyone. She was cut off. Stranded with a bunch of proper arseholes, five thousand miles or more from home and a thousand miles or more from where he was, where she wanted desperately to be. Where she dreamt of being off and on for the next three years. By a lake, in the woods, in Georgia, in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I over-doing the flashbacks? You would tell me wouldn't you?
> 
> Anyway, I'm back in sync now & working on some fun new bits coming up in the next few chapters.


	19. Chapter 19

After taking care of his most pressing business in the bathroom, Daryl had turned his attention to the filled sink and his heart leapt as he caught sight of himself in the large mirror behind it. He wasn’t a vain man and it wasn’t his scraggy beard or generally unkempt appearance that shocked him. He looked down in abject horror though, as he realised that his shirt was still gaping open from his bed-bath last night.

He felt suddenly vulnerable, exposed, naked. He hadn’t even noticed. Had she? He shook his head and removed the shirt completely to wash himself properly. He consoled himself that at least the worst of his scars were confined to his back. She couldn’t have seen much and hopefully nothing that would put her entirely off her breakfast.

He applied fresh freeze-gel to his leg and swapped out the dressing with one she’d left by the sink. He used the soap, wash cloth, towel and deodorant she’d provided and noticed that she’d laid out a shirt for him on the side of the bath too. He looked it over appraisingly.

She heard him open the bathroom door and made her way over there to help him back to the room. “Suits you.” She smiled approvingly at the forest green shirt. “Not a bad fit either.”

“Got a couple just like it.” He refused her arm as she offered her support. “I need to test it out.” He explained.

She fell into step by his side “OK, I’m here if you need me.”

He made it back to the bed with surprising ease and Kit suspected this hadn’t been the first time Daryl had been in the wars. He was a tough bastard from way back and she knew for a fact he’d had worse injuries to deal with in his life. She expected he healed quickly and was used to pain, it saddened her to know that this was the case.

She did help him stretch his legs back up onto the bed though, gave him his next dose of anti-biotics, passing the bowl of porridge and indicating three cartons of juice on the bedside table. She then walked around the bed, collecting her own breakfast and settled into the same position she’d adopted the night before.

Daryl watched her as he took his first spoonful of “porridge” without even looking at it. As it hit his taste buds he looked down in surprise. This was the best damn oatmeal he’d ever had in his life. He hadn’t even registered what she’d said she would be serving up for breakfast. He’d just been suitably awed (yet again) to be so automatically included in her meal plans. This was definitely oatmeal but there were raisins in it, some other kinds of dried fruits too he reckoned, cinnamon and coconut flakes???

“Wow!” it came out before he knew what to think. He looked up into her smiling eyes, more startled by his own positive outburst than she could ever guess. “S’real good.” He mumbled, confirming his initial review before getting back to some serious eating.

“Thanks.” Kit loved her porridge and worked hard to find and store the components that she hoped would keep her loving it for a while yet. She knew everything would run out one day. The raisins would go first, turning to brown sugary husks as they crept into old age, incapable of being rehydrated in the porridge pan. Coconut flakes were hard enough to find at the best of times and even the punchy cinnamon would fade and lose its flavour over time. But for now it was all fine and life was good.

She watched Daryl thoughtfully as she ate. Maybe he had a point yesterday, about numbers and stability. She wasn’t stupid, her current way of life worked and she could manage as a scavenger for a good long while yet but not forever. There was nothing sustainable about it. For a woman who prided herself on being able to make anything she needed, with raw materials, from scratch, she hadn’t eaten a thing that she’d caught or grown herself for months. Hunts, of any kind were rare these days to the point of non-existence. 

As the new world became less about the immediate day-to-day struggles to survive against the dead and more about dealing with the living to get along and build something sustainable, she’d have to form some strong group alliances somewhere… with someone. Maybe it WAS time to start looking, before her situation got more desperate. As the groups in her midst got more stable, perhaps they’d get more fussy, about who they traded with and considered taking in, too.

Daryl had no idea how generously the odds had tipped in his favour without him even uttering a coaxing word yet this morning. He eased in to it with a couple more hangover questions from last night and asking her about her plans for Garvey once she’d “got rid” of him.

As she told him about her usual timetable for this size of town and absentmindedly let slip that Garvey had been so good to her so far, that she’d been considering taking a day or two just to chill out and relax here, Daryl took his opportunity. “Hey, if you want some downtime why don’t you consider just coming back with me to Alexandria for a few days?”

“You think they’d be up for a tourist?” she teased, arching her eyebrow at him quizzically.

“Said you were thinking about a break from the same-old.” He began, defensively. “You could take a break with us, meet some people, make some contacts, trade some o’ what you got spare for what you need from us.” He couldn’t be sure but maybe she was thinking about it now?? “Rick’s not stupid, a good contact is a good contact, whether you plan to stay long-term or not and I’ll vouch for you. He’ll let you in.” That might’ve sounded easier than it would be in practice but Daryl knew he had pull – Rick would come around if Daryl forced the issue hard enough. “Give it a few days… you like it, great. You don’t like it, you go. No hard feelings. We’ll see you next time you got shit to trade.”

Kit found it hard to argue. She really was tired of the day-to-day of it all. A break would be nice. Maybe she just hadn’t met the right people to make her want to stick a group situation out yet. Hell, if all the Alexandrians were like Daryl she’d have been happy to give in right now but she had the feeling he was as much of a loner within their community as she was without.

Still, they must have something going for them, to have made Daryl want to stick it out there in the first place. At the very least Alexandria did have Daryl going for it. They had at least one man she knew and could trust. Maybe it was time. Time for a risk. Time to try.

“I couldn’t just sit around on my arse doing nothing.” She argued.

“Wouldn’t have to.” He countered, sensing that he ad her thinking about it at least. “There’s plenty o’ light work you can help out with without it being life-or-death for a few days.” She was teetering now, he thought. “An’ if you get antsy, about being behind the walls the whole time, you could come on a run or a hunt with me.” He shrugged and turned his attention to his juice box “If you want.”

Kit pondered her empty bowl, in the silence that followed, as she finished her own juice box. She was afraid to hope that that last offer had been anything but an honest attempt to coax her into accepting an uncomfortable situation by offering a friendly safety net. But she really, really wanted to believe that when he made that offer he meant that he wanted to spend time alone with her as much as she wanted it.

“OK, you’ve convinced me.” She said finally. Daryl’s head snapping up at her words. “But I need to finish off Garvey first. Collect everything together. Leave it tidy and ready to pick up again when my holiday’s over.” She set the bowl and the box on the footboard. “That’ll give you a couple of days to warn them I’m coming.”

“Or a couple of days for you to think better of it and head for the hills.” He thought. He didn’t think she would go back on her word to him really but he wasn’t willing to risk it. Wasn’t willing to let her out of his sight until she’d agreed to come to Alexandria and then until he’d convinced her to stay. He never really wanted to let her out of his sight again full stop. Daryl had a better idea.

“They don’t need no warning, not if you come back with me.” He said, “They ain’t expecting me and David back ‘til the end of the week. Let me help you finish up here.” She opened her mouth to say something but he talked over whatever objection she’d had “I know I ain’t up to much right now but I can move around and take care of myself OK and another driver would be good if nothing else, if you’re moving your shit somewhere central… right?”

He had her there, another driver was exactly the thing she dreamed of having at these times, almost as much as during the planning and prep stage. She knew he could take care of himself against the dead. He’d be no hindrance, might be a serious help.

“OK.” She said, afraid to look up and try to gauge the affect her agreement would have on him and afraid to show any reaction herself, if he seemed overly happy about the situation. “You’re on… but today is an easy day. You can work your ‘ass’ off tomorrow but today you’re resting that leg. We’ve got plenty of work we can do right here or just driving around in the car.” She blustered through the small print as she cleared away the bowls, finally looking up as she made her way to the door.

Daryl had had time to compose himself by then. He nodded his agreement, not trusting his voice and the deal was struck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one's gonna be ALLLLL NEWWWW stuff - YAY!


	20. Chapter 20

The morning was spent in comfort on the bed and around the rest of the house. She showed him her maps, lists and plans for the last few places she’d hit before consolidating everything in a central place. Then she showed him how the house worked: the water filtration process, the shower process, where the provisions and cooking equipment were to be found and how the security measures worked.

She was so fucking organised, it made Daryl’s head spin. Everything had been methodically recce’d and she’d swept most of the town already. She had very few ‘must have’ items left to find and any extra ‘nice to haves’ were just that, so it felt like they could afford a little downtime before pulling it all together. The afternoon was spent driving around to a few places that might be good ‘lock ups’ and as they found the ideal spot at the second place they tried, they moved on to trying a couple of places on her list for those final bits and pieces.

Daryl was not even remotely happy about waiting in the car outside the dentists practice. He hadn’t been happy about waiting outside the office blocks either but at least they’d had straight forward layouts and big windows; he’d been able to track her progress and she’d been real fast in and out both times. Here he’d have no sightlines and she had no idea what the layout would be inside or where the main drugs store might be. Kit had been so insistent that she’d be fine though, each and every time.

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last three years?” She’d said. “Honestly, the idea of having a getaway driver waiting outside for me ‘just in case’ is a ridiculous level of luxury to me.”

This time he’d still tried to argue, yet again but she wouldn’t have it. Leaning into the car through the open window she insisted. “Just please stay here and watch the entrance, it’s the only way any dead could follow me in there. I’ll be perfectly capable of dealing with anything I find inside and if I get in trouble you’ll hear me scream OK.”

Daryl found it hard to concentrate on arguing with her. She’d popped a button on her over blouse and he had the most distracting view of her cleavage from this angle. He tore his eyes away as soon as he could but he could almost hear his brother whispering filth in his ear again. Merle was right of course, that was going to be another mental image in the ‘bank’.

“I promise,” she said pushing away from the car and heading for the building “If I get in trouble you’ll know it. Lung capacity is not something I lack.”

“No shit.” Daryl breathed, as soon as she was out of earshot.

\-------------

Kit just wasn’t in the mood for this today, she already dreaded going into the building. She’d usually wait for the dog to return from her recce and go in with her together but she couldn’t be bothered to wait. She wanted to get this done and go home. She felt hot and clammy in this heat and would much rather be spending the remainder of this afternoon back at the house, in comfort, with Daryl.

She missed him almost immediately, as she turned and headed into the airless building. He’d only been back in her world twenty-four hours and already she found it hard to imagine how she would ever be able to tear herself away again. What if she hated Alexandria? What if his ‘family’ were a bunch of numpties?

Their forays into the possible storage facilities had been easy. Both buildings had been pretty standard office blocks with unimaginative, straight-forward layouts that were easily accessible. She’d been quick, in and out in no time and the favourite had been an obvious winner. This place, however, was in an old building. Well, relatively old anyway. She knew from other, similar properties on the block, that inside would be a cramped maze of rooms and tight staircases.

She took her time and was careful as she progressed. Each examination room no doubt contained useful supplies in the cupboards but she knew there would be a main supply room somewhere too. The antibiotics and the kick-ass painkillers would be there. That was the priority on the way in. Quickly and quietly, she’d scope the rooms out and keep moving until she found the big ticket haul. If there was time on the way back, she’d grab anything else of use.

As she passed the staff kitchen, she heard something shuffling around in there. Three guesses what that might be but it hadn’t clocked her, so she kept moving forward. At least she knew where it was and she’d take it out on the way back. She just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it right now and she’d already spotted something eminently more interesting up ahead.

The store room wasn’t even locked. It still had the power to surprise her, even after all the towns she’d seen it happen. All these life-saving drugs just sat here in plain sight. No doubt people in desperate need would have blown through this town, at some point since the turn, looking for exactly these supplies. Not one of them had consulted a phone book to find this place. Crazy.

Everything on her list was right here and then some. She packed what she would need for her ‘stash’ first, in the front pocket of the backpack and then stuffed the main compartment with all but one box of each of everything else. If anyone ever did consult a phone book, she wanted them to at least have a small victory.

As an afterthought she checked a pile of clothing on the bottom shelf. Scrubs. Only a few sets but they gave her an idea. Daryl would need something to wear around the house, while those disgusting pants of his were drying. She stuffed a pair of bottoms in her pack with a smile. 

Hoisting the bag back on her shoulders, she wondered at the ridiculous weight of a few pills. Maybe she didn’t need to check the rest of the place. No point being greedy and her heart just wasn’t in it today. At any rate, this monster haul would be great introductory trade goods for Alexandria and Hilltop, or maybe the Kingdom, if she ever made her way there. Might be worth a trek to meet a real live tiger.

As she moved towards the door, a shambling husk of a man - flesh rotting on his bones, missing arm and right eye, the works - came out of nowhere. Kit hadn’t expected the kitchen ‘shuffler’ to have moved, so far or so fast, without her hearing it coming. It definitely had the element of surprise and she was momentarily knocked backwards by shock and the backpack, which was skewing her centre of gravity and making her unusually clumsy. She recovered quickly and batted away the thing’s relatively good arm. She kicked out with her right leg to put some distance between her and it and went for the knife at her hip. One clean hit and it would be all over.

But it wasn’t clean. She missed with her first thrust. Had to kick out again but this time it was a less powerful connection, a less effective hit. She was lucky with the second thrust. She felt all the power draining from her, weakness was invading her entire body. She couldn’t understand what was happening to her but she knew that if she didn’t end this thing now there wouldn’t be a third strike. She was lucky because her second thrust went right through the thing’s empty eye socket and sunk into the brain beneath, without the need for strength. A good job too, she didn’t have any left. Even that weak kill had winded her.

She leant on the wall at her side to recover herself. She’d felt like this a time or two before. She’d fainted a few times in her life and that was what this felt like, the warning your body gave you to find a nice safe, soft spot to land, before it checked out on you. Maybe the cupboard had been too airless? Maybe there was some kind of odourless gas seeping from somewhere, affecting her. Whatever it was, leaning against the wall wasn’t helping, it was making her worse. She had to get out. Get back to the sunlight and the air and Daryl, waiting in the car.

As she approached the kitchen she heard the shuffling again and her heart sank. There had been two of them, that’s how he’d got to her so quickly and quietly, he’d come from ahead, not behind. She’d been lazy on the way in. Cocky more like. She hadn’t waited for the dog, she was slipping, being careless. And now she would have to be very careful and quiet and quick, or she could be in real trouble.

She couldn’t see it. She stood as straight as she could manage, breathed in deeply and walked as quietly as she could past the doorway. She hoped she’d been quiet enough not to raise any interest on her way out as she had been on her way in. Hoping didn’t make it so. The decomposing woman in the kitchen was already shambling slowly towards the door as Kit was revving herself up to walk past it. It had sensed the commotion further along the hallway somehow. It was hard to imagine these things had anything organic that could still ‘hear’ but somehow they did. As it saw Kit pass the doorway, its shuffle intensified and it began to grumble and gnash its teeth.

Kit heard it coming on behind her, even through her fuzzy-headed funk. She daren’t look but she knew she couldn’t out run it for long. At the moment she had a slight speed advantage but she had a set of stairs to navigate now and by the time she was at the bottom of them she’d be moving no faster than the thing behind her. She was getting weaker by the second. She was royally fucked.

She closed her eyes, as she reached the middle of the stairs, marvelling at the sheer super-human effort it had taken to reach this point. She held on fast to the bannister and still daren’t look behind at the thing making its way towards her, just two or three metres away at the top of the stairs. She stopped for a second, took a deep breath, and with the last of her energy she screamed at the top of her lungs down the length of the empty corridor below, that separated her from the front door and the world beyond.

“Daryl!.... Help!”

She knew that wasn’t the end of her struggles. She couldn’t just stop and wait for him to ride in on his white charger and save her. He wasn’t exactly in the peak of fitness right now himself. Even if he’d heard her, which from this distance wasn’t a given, it would take him a couple of minutes to be any use to her. She still needed to keep moving and she did.

It took every ounce of effort she had in her but she made it to the foot of the stairs and practically fell to her knees in the hallway. She heard something battering and scratching at the door and in her addled state she prayed it wasn’t more dead things coming to eat her. Crawling now, on hands and knees, she willed herself to push on towards the doorway.

Suddenly there was the distant sound of a latch clicking, the thud of a door hitting a wall and the frantic scrabble of nails on wood, barking, growling and the sound of Daryl. He sounded desperate, his voice riddled with fear and anger in equal measure. She didn’t see him, her vision was gone but she felt him pulling her up, cradling her face, lifting her, carrying her out of there. She was safe now. She could sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late. Life's annoying sometimes. This is Daryl's perspective.

Daryl couldn’t wait in the car. His leg wasn’t exactly up to a bunch of stairs, or running a damn marathon or anything but it had knit well overnight. Kit had done a damn fine job with the stitches and they were holding well. Now he just needed to keep it moving, not let it seize up on him. He stalked back and forth by the car on the opposite side of the street from the building. Keeping watch on the street in both directions, of course but he also hoped to catch a reassuring sight of her at the upstairs front window, when she got that far.

The dog had come to join him after a while. She’d checked the block out, like she did whenever they stopped anywhere. He guessed she’d done her job pretty well. There was nothing in sight that was still walking around when it had no right to be. He rewarded her with some attention.

He’d already taken back all his earlier thoughts about how genuinely useful she was. He’d seen her take out a walker not long after they’d arrived at the last office block. He wouldn’t want to mess with her, that’s for damn sure. He found himself feeling lucky that he’d gotten away with grabbing up Kit like that yesterday, without losing an arm, now he’d seen her guard dog in action.

He heard the muffled scream and reacted immediately but not as fast as the dog. She hadn’t even seen where Kit had gone but she ran straight for the right door and was scrabbling and whining at it desperately by the time Daryl arrived behind her and opened it up for her.

Hardly any light was coming through the opaque front windows of the building and it was so dark that Daryl’s vision took some time to adjust. He cried out for Kit. Frantic that they’d taken too long, that she might be hurt, or worse.

He made out the melee at the foot of the stairs. The walker had fallen down the main flight and had been crawling down from the dog-leg, within inches of the Kit-shaped heap at the far end of the corridor. The dog bit into the neck and wrestled it free of the dead woman’s body, as Daryl ran towards the carnage, with only one thought in his mind. 

He frantically pulled Kit into his arms and away from the grasping hands at her heels, his own leg completely forgotten. He tried to check her over but she was limp in his arms, practically unconscious, with a grey pallor that was beginning to form a knot of panic in his gut. Giving up on doing much for her in situ, he hoisted her up and carried her down the corridor, out into the street and over to the car. The dog followed on behind, discarding the walker’s head in the gutter as she went.

Daryl hadn’t even noticed the backpack, as he’d carried her to the car but he had to remove it in order to make her comfortable on the back seat. It was light enough but obviously crammed full of pills. He threw it in the passenger side and took his place in the driving seat, with the dog in the back playing nurse-maid to Kit. He swung the car around and didn’t spare the horses on the way back to their safe-house. He really didn’t like the deathly pale look of her skin.

Back at the house, he parked a little closer than she would have but not too close. He raced out of his door and left it open, as she would, wrenching the back door and pulling her into his arms again. Leaving the backpack, her gun and his bow, he carried her as fast as his legs would allow to the house.

As he laid her gently on the bed, he tentatively inspected her for bites. For a few moments he lived in fear of what he might find any second but in his heart of hearts he knew it was unlikely. He’d never seen anyone take sick from a bite so quickly. He was right, no bites to be seen, no rips in her clothing and nothing on her exposed skin. She was feverish and clammy. She was sick, not bit.

He put her in the recovery position and reluctantly left her for a few necessary minutes. He needed to get their stuff from the car and batten down the hatches. The dog would patrol the area and keep the dead at a distance, he had other things to concentrate on. He had a sick woman to take care of and he intended to do everything he could for her.

He’d seen what a stupid fucking virus could do in close quarters but he didn’t give a shit. If she died in the night; her turning and trying to eat him alive would be the least of his woes. He’d only just found her again and he’d be damned if he was going to lose her to the fucking stomach flu or some other bullshit now. She still represented everything good that could ever be in his future, even in this shitty world, he’d hang on to that and her with every fibre of his being.

As he returned from his foray he found her on all fours, halfway towards the bedroom door. She looked as weak as a fucking kitten and it terrified him. He knelt beside her and held her against him, gently sweeping her hair out of her eyes.

“What you doin’ outa bed sweetheart?” he whispered softly, cradling her against him gently. “Huh?”

“Daryl…” she muttered in a whisper, “think … s … tummy bug.” her words all half formed and hard to make out. “Need ..ge.. out.” She managed.

He understood. She’d been heading for the bathroom. She needed to empty out the badness before she could sweat this bug out and recover. He helped her to her feet and practically carried her to the bathroom. He checked the cistern was full and began helping her to take off her pants but she stopped him with a weak hand and the sudden vehemence of her voice.

“No.” He stopped dead and caught her hazy but insistent expression. He hadn’t even been thinking. His only thought was to help her but he understood that this was too much. “C’n manage.” She mumbled, more softly but still insistent.

He could see she was weak but he’d already popped the button and drawn the zip. She had enough strength for the rest. The basin was right next to the toilet pan, so she could rest on that and throw up from both ends at once if that was what she needed. He’d wait right outside and be in in a shot if it sounded like she needed him. He assured her of that and tentatively let go of her. Leaving the room, he closed the door behind him and waited.

The first round had been over in a matter of minutes and he heard her swilling water around, from the jug by the basin, to clean up after herself. He called through the door but she told him she didn’t think she was done yet. She hadn’t been.

A few minutes later he heard her retching again, a sudden violent waterfall of vomit, from which end he couldn’t hazard a guess, probably both and this time she didn’t bother swilling the sink. He called again, this time really just so she knew he was still there, still with her, she wasn’t alone.

After the third bout there was a long pause before she poured more water into the sink, swilling it round to try to clear some of the mess. Forty minutes or so after he’d left the room he finally heard her flush the toilet and knew she must think she’d purged everything she had. He called softly through the door and when he heard only a soft, incoherent, mumble of a response he tentatively opened the door. He found her on the floor, resting against the bath, semi-conscious.

She’d discarded her jeans, which were heaped in the corner and the rest of the buttons on her over-shirt were undone. Under that she wore her vest-top and bra and on her bottom half, she wore her black panties and socks. She was dripping with sweat and her hair was drenched and lank around her face. Somehow she’d managed not to throw up in her hair or down her clothes but she’d done a piss-poor job of cleaning out the wash basin and the whole room stank of puke. Which was probably better than stinking of shit, he guessed.

All in all, though, she looked a damn sight better than she had before. She was still pale and obviously out of it but she had lost the tinge of grey at least. He figured this was all a damn sight better than some of the situations he’d had to clear up after Merle, or even himself, after a bender. He lifted her into his arms again, just grateful that her heart was still beating and took her back to the bedroom.

He’d already prepared the bed for her. Grabbed as many covers and blankets as he could find. Brought up fresh water and an empty bucket, just in case.

As he laid her on the bed, he gently removed the over-shirt and vest. He knew he should take the bra off too but figured that wouldn’t be right. He grabbed the wash cloth by the bed and dipped it in fresh, cool water. He held her in a seated pose, resting against his chest and wiped away the sweat from her face, back, neck, torso, arms and belly; drying as he went with a beach towel he’d found in the next room. When she was reasonably clean, dry and comfortable, he packed the covers around her, tucking her in tight.

He returned to the bathroom briefly, refilling the cistern, cleaning up the basin as best he could for now and collecting her jeans. He folded them carefully, watching her sleep and set them on the mattress in her closet bedroom, along with the over-shirt and vest top he’d removed. He’d wash them later, once she was through the worst of it and he could concentrate on anything but her.

Retrieving the wash cloth and water bowl, Daryl walked around the bed and climbing on painfully, from the other side, he took up his position. Piling pillows up next to her, so he could stretch his leg out in a semi-seated pose, he made himself comfortable and laid his hand on her forehead. Finding it hot but not yet clammy again, he gently stroked her hair and promised her she’d be fine; not entirely sure himself if the words were for her benefit or his own.

She murmured occasionally in her fitful sleep but Daryl couldn’t make out a word of it. He was desperate to hear her speak, if only to tell him to stop stroking her fucking hair ‘cause it was annoying the hell out of her.

About an hour later the dog returned from herding walkers and whatever else she got up to around the neighbourhood. She came upstairs and poked her head around the door. Daryl caught her eye and she took his stillness as permission to come in. She rested her chin on the bed, next to Kit’s prone, mummified form and looking at her mistress, she released a little whine.

Daryl responded quietly. “Don’t you worry none, she’ll be alright. You’ll see.”

He got up painfully and remembered that he was overdue his meds. Walking around the bed, he called the dog over to follow him and he went in search of her food and his pain killers and antibiotics. He considered looking for appropriate meds for Kit but if it was a virus, which it seemed like it was, there was no fucking point. He didn’t have any way to force drugs down her anyway. He knew where she’d stashed the bulk of her hard-core medical supplies for the short term but there was no way he was leaving her side to go get them from town unless things looked desperate.

After feeding the dog and taking his meds, Daryl opened a can of beans, grabbed a spoon and returned to the room. The can was half eaten before he’d made it up the stairs and by the time he reached his side of the bed, he discarded the empty can on the window ledge before returning to Kit’s side.

He stroked her head lightly and found her shivering beneath his touch. She was clammy and feverish again. Lacking anything else in the way of coverings he called to the dog to come up and join them, as he leant over her in an embrace, sharing his own body heat with her across her torso. The dog found a nook between Kit’s legs and rested her head on her abdomen, sharing her own body heat with Kit’s lower half. The man and the dog, shared a look and a purpose. This woman was everything to them both and they’d do anything to hang on to her.

All three of them slept eventually and when Daryl woke, it was to find that the sun had long-since set and Kit had thrown off her blanket, on the far side from him and stretched her uncovered arm and leg out, on that side, to regulate her temperature. He checked her forehead and found that her skin was dry and although she felt warm, she wasn’t feverish or shivering anymore.

He pulled her arm and leg back under the blankets but removed the top layer completely, so she didn’t overheat again. The dog was awake and he motioned for her to move to his side of the bed as he worked. She did so obediently, curling up to watch proceedings from her spot there. Daryl sat and watched Kit too. For long minutes he did nothing but watch her. Not daring to let himself think.

The dog made a moaning noise eventually, yawned and rested her head on her paws to go back to sleep. Daryl figured there wasn’t much, beyond that, he could do himself. He took another round of meds and removed some of the pillows, so he could lay by her side, at her own level and watch her until he slept again too.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to clarify that the whole 'Kit's sick' segment is not a demonstration of her being soft or 'needing' anyone else to survive. 
> 
> It will become clear later on that she would never have got sick in the first place if she hadn't bumped into Daryl and even now - i still maintain that if she'd 'had to' she'd have polished off that walker & just spent the night at the dentists. Or actually, if Daryl hadn't been there waiting outside would she even have pushed herself to go in in the first place? 
> 
> Anyway, point is - she doesn't 'need' anyone and could deal with pretty much anything on her own if she had to but isn't it lovely - when you are that type of 'strong' independent person, when someone actually cares and wants to look after you. Kit's never had that before and i wanted her to get it from Daryl.
> 
> Noone's complained or anything but i just wanted to be clear, in case i haven't made it crystal enough in the story, that Kit is tough as old boots and would be fine without Daryl (if she had to be).

Kit was only vaguely aware of anything that happened after the dentists. She’d been in and out until she finally regained consciousness long enough to realise she was back at the base-house, on the big bed. Daryl had brought her home. Thank fuck for that – at least she knew where the bathroom was here and that it had a working flush, so she wouldn’t have to lay in her own filth – because everything inside her body needed to be out of it. Right – bloody – now!

She hadn’t made it far before she stumbled and fell. She remembered being practically carried to the bathroom in gentle arms. Her face was numb as she stood on shaky legs watching Daryl check the cistern. When he turned to her and reached for the fastenings of her jeans she’d reacted instinctively. She knew he just wanted to help her, she hoped he understood. She’d taken care of herself her entire life. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d relied on anyone for anything, especially any kind of personal care. She’d accept what help and support he offered gladly, in her weakened state she didn’t have much option but she would take care of herself too, as far as she could. This – she could manage.

She’d actually felt slightly better with every bout of purging. When it was finally all done and she was sure she was as empty as she’d get, she’d been practically euphoric. Until she tried to stand, at least. She swilled her mouth and swirled the remainder in the jug around the sink. A token effort at least. She managed the flush and thank Christ she’d got her pants back up but her legs just wouldn’t carry her. She’d crumpled onto the floor in comically slow motion. Her body had allowed her this brief period of capability, in order to do what needed to be done and now it was time for the dimmer switch to kick in and power her down.

She’d been blearily aware of Daryl’s presence in the room again. His voice. A fleeting glimpse of his concerned expression. The strength and solidity of him as he carried her, like some kind of pathetic wounded bird, back to the bedroom.

After that, it was just the occasional awareness of a body next to her, something brushing her hair rhythmically, soothingly. Partially waking, only to find that the sun had set. Suddenly being aware of the dog being nearby too.

Sometime around dawn, as the first weak promises of light began to push their way through the long night, Kit woke again. It wouldn’t last, she was still in need of more sleep but this was the one she remembered best later.

Her mouth was like the bottom of a birdcage and her head throbbed in the background. Every stomach muscle felt like it had done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. It was safe to say she felt pretty shit. But as she laid there, she knew she wasn’t alone. Glancing to her left she saw the shape of a man and a dog, both sleeping, just inches away from her. The man lay on his side – his bad side – facing her. His right arm cradled under his head, like a pillow. His left arm stretched over her body. His hand, a comforting weight, resting just above her right hip.

Painfully she shifted, so she could turn her head towards him. Towards both of her silent guardians. Awake he always seemed somehow invincible, with a gnarled toughness that couldn’t be broken. But here, in peaceful repose, he seemed years younger and far more open and vulnerable than she’d ever thought him to be.

As she laid there in silence, studying Daryl’s face in the pale morning light, she felt utterly safe and at peace. Shit as she felt in that hazy moment, before sleep claimed her again, Kit would always recall wanting it to last forever.

\----------------

The next time Kit woke, she found Daryl sitting up on the bed beside her and the dog gone. She still felt like something had shat in her head and if anything, her core muscles felt even worse. This time she woke up though, she felt strangely more ‘real’, more human.  

Daryl seemed to be taking inventory of the meds from the dentists. He looked focussed on his task but he’d made himself comfortable. She found herself feeling guilty, at all the vague memories of being carried about yesterday. She surveyed his leg and realised he was wearing the scrub bottoms she’d scavenged for him. As her eyes dropped to the bed itself, her heart sank to see a fresh blood stain on the mattress near where he was sitting.

“Daryl,” She croaked, worriedly. “You’re bleeding!”

His head span around faster than she thought humanly possible and in less than a second he was leaning over her, his hand on her head. If she’d had enough blood in that head right now she’d have blushed. She’d never been the sole focus of someone’s attention before, never felt so thoroughly cared about. She didn’t even care what a state she must be right now. He obviously didn’t. No one had ever looked this pleased to see her in her whole life. Except him, come to think of it, the day before yesterday. 

“You scared the shit outa me.” He scolded, with a smile. “How you feelin’?”

“Less like shit than last time I was conscious.” She rasped, returning the smile and enjoyed the warmth of his hand as he cupped her cheek. She wouldn’t allow herself to be completely distracted though. “You’re leg?” She insisted.

“I’m fine.” He dismissed her fears, withdrawing his hand and reaching across to grab a water bottle. “I pulled a stitch yesterday. Bled a little last night ‘til I noticed and tightened the dressing. It’s fine, I promise.”

“OK, good…. Nice threads.” She added with a smile as he gently pulled her up and bolstered her, with extra pillows, into a semi-seated position.

“Figured it was a hint.” He answered. “You think you can take some water?” he asked, offering the bottle.

She thought about it. Her mouth was dry, she felt like it would be nice to drink but she didn’t feel it like a need. What did that mean? “I suppose I should try?” she answered.

He put his arm around her shoulders and brought the bottle to her lips to help her take a sip. Cradled in his arm, yet again, she felt his strength and gentleness in equal measure. She drank slowly and didn’t take much before she began to feel that it was a mistake.

As the nausea grew and bile rose in her throat, she shook her head at the bottle and put her hand to her mouth, as she felt the first retching spasms come.

Daryl turned to the side table, dumped the water and quickly grabbed up the bowl he’d left there the previous night. He made it back to her just in time to sweep back her hair and hold her steady as she brought up the small quantity of water.

“Mmm sorry sweetheart.” He hummed in her ear, as the spasms subsided. “Guess you still got some gettin’ better to do.”

He placed the bowl back on the table and pulled her into his side, as he rested his back against the headboard. She curled up against his chest. Her hand resting just below his collar bone. Her body moulding comfortably into his.

She may not be ready for sustenance but at least he could offer her some comfort and she was looking better. Stronger. Next time she woke, he bet she’d be ready for water, maybe even something to eat. It was almost twenty four hours since she’d ejected the entire contents of her body. Next time he wouldn’t push. Next time he’d let her tell him what she needed.

Kit felt the thrum of Daryl’s heart, against her ear. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be lulled back to sleep by the comforting beat and the soothing feeling of his hand, stroking her hair. Before she fell into another dreamless sleep, her last conscious thought was “Sweatheart?.... Did he call me sweetheart?”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry - life got in the way again. I think I'll probably just try to post on Wednesdays now and either Saturday night or Sunday at the weekend. Might work better.

The next time Kit woke, it was to find herself alone in the room. She could hear distant, comforting noises of movement though. Daryl was nearby. She was still safe. He was still taking care of her.

She smiled to herself. She’d never had anyone worry about her before. No one to care how she felt or if she’d survive. She’d only been ill a handful of times, that she could recall, in her whole life. Aside from when she’d been really small and in the care of people who had a professional interest in her health and recovery. No one had ever lavished anything like this much attention on her during any one of those bouts of illness.

Looking the way she must look right now and as crap as she still felt, Kit couldn’t help but wonder at Daryl’s motivation. If he were just an old acquaintance, she might expect him to take care of her to some degree, being the only person who could. But he hadn’t just helped her to the bathroom, bundled her up and left her to sweat it out. Her over-riding memory of every single moment of consciousness, since the dentists, had been of him being right there.

Even when she’d woken alone that first time, he’d been there in seconds and she’d known he’d be nearby. Hadn’t doubted it for a moment. He’d slept by her side, shared his body heat with her, held her in his arms and soothed her to sleep. He’d stroked her hair and held her close. She knew he was about as ‘touchy feely’ as she was, under normal circumstances. She’d never felt like it was a trial for him though. Never felt any kind of repulsion from him. Every time he’d touched her she’d felt tenderness and care radiating from him. A warmth she’d never known before.

And he’d called her sweetheart. She could only clearly remember one instance but she felt like it hadn’t been the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. Did he feel anything like what she felt for him, she wondered. She smiled at herself then. She must be feeling better if she had time to be all girly and worried over this.

Kit was just considering getting up, as she felt like she was strong enough now, when she heard footsteps in the corridor.

Daryl swung open the door without a thought, expecting Kit to still be out like a light, as she had been for a couple of hours now. When he saw her look over as he came into the room he almost dropped the tray he was carrying.

“Hey,” he beamed, as he put the tray down and moved to her side as quickly as he could manage. “How you feelin’ sweetheart?” His hand went to her temple and his eyes never left her face. He didn’t even know what he’d said. Kit smiled at her own foolishness.

Most Americans found it strange to be accosted with a barrage of constant endearments when they were in Britain. Word’s like; love, darling, pet, hon, duck and sweetheart had long since lost their meaning as anything other than punctuation in British discourse. A trip to the post office might seem like an endless array of flirty banter from bus drivers, fellow queuers and the lady behind the counter but it meant nothing to any of the speakers. Everyone was just on an automatic pilot of ‘friendliness’ and it just took a while for foreigners to understand that ‘love’ just meant ‘friend’ in this context. In that country.

Kit was so out of practice now that her heart had leapt to hear Daryl use such an endearment with her. But she’d forgotten that he was a good ol’ southern, country boy. If anywhere in the states held on to any of this odd Britishness in its speech patterns, then the south was surely the place. Kit wrestled to bring her heart palpitations under control. He was just being friendly. Didn’t mean anything by it.

“Much less like shit.” She managed, with a small smile, as she tried to sit up. Her stomach muscles screaming at her, as she suddenly became acutely aware that she wasn’t actually wearing much under this blanket.

Their eyes met briefly, as Kit pulled the blanket close to cover her briefly exposed, bra clad, chest. They each saw their own embarrassment echoed back from each other and Daryl felt the need to explain himself, although he didn’t have the words.

“I… uh.” He began, scratching his neck absentmindedly. “You were feverish at the start…. Um…”

“Thanks.” Kit replied, cutting him off.

She could see he was uncomfortable and so was she. He’d done what needed to be done. She was already vaguely aware of having removed her jeans herself. She was just always a little bashful of anyone catching sight of too much skin. She’d grown quickly in her adolescence and there was very little of the more ‘womanly’ areas of her body that weren’t covered in stretch marks. It was another good reason to be awkward and standoffish as a teenager and another excuse to keep everyone, who might have wanted to get to know her more intimately, at a comfortable distance later on. No sense in dwelling on what couldn’t be helped now though. If he’d seen them, he’d seen them. Nothing she could do about that. Best to brush past it and not draw more attention to the fact.

“Was anything salvageable?” She asked.

“Yeah, you managed not to puke on anything, including your hair.”

“Hah!” She laughed weakly. “That’s pretty impressive huh?”

“Yeah, good job.” He smiled and nodded at her as he reached for a bottle on the bedside. “Washed your stuff along with mine,” he said, indicating his scrubs. “should be dry by tomorrow.”

“Oh, thanks.” She was a little shocked. Hadn’t expected him to be so domesticated but she realised immediately that he was used to taking care of himself, even before the turn. Of course a little laundry wasn’t beyond him.

“You wanna give it another try?” he asked, opening the water bottle and offering it to her.

“Yeah, I think I’m up to it now.” She took the bottle and drank deeply, by herself.

“Hey, slow down.” He warned. “Take it slow.”

“I’m OK this time.” she promised, “Pretty hungry actually.”

“Thought you might be.” He smiled warmly, going back to the tray. “Brought you some dry crackers to try.” He held one out for her and she took it tentatively.

“If you’re OK with that, we can try you with some soup or something later.”

Kit ate the first cracker slowly, analysing her body for signs of revolt. When none appeared, she took a second cracker and a few more sips of water before resting her head on the headboard and turning her attention fully to Daryl.

“Thank you.” She said.

"Just a cracker." He shrugged.

"You know what I mean. For everything. Thank you."

“Didn’t do much.” He replied. “You had to work it through. I just got you back here is all. You’d a bin fine without me.”

“I would.” She agreed. “If I’d had to, I’d have managed but I didn't have to. You were here the whole time and you took care of me and I knew it and it helped.” She smiled again. “No one’s ever done that for me before. I appreciate it. So… thank you.”

Daryl was a little shocked to be so appreciated for something he hadn’t even given a second thought about but he met her eyes eventually. She deserved that. Deserved his sincerity, as she’d given her own.

“You’re welcome Kit.” He breathed, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of lank hair behind her ear. “Ain’t nowhere else I’d a rather bin.” They both half laughed at that but it was the truth.

Kit felt her heart begin to race again as Daryl became more serious. “Just don’t ever do nothin’ like that ever again, a’right sweetheart?” He said, “Damn near scared me half to death.”

\----------------

The next hour or so was spent in building up Kit’s strength and making her feel human again. It was a race against the sunset, as Kit's 'house rules' precluded lighting in any room but the bathroom and the walk-in-wardrobe but Daryl prepped Kit’s shower rig and cooked up some soup. He brought the soup pan through to the bedroom and wrapped it in blankets, to preserve the heat for a while and then helped her up. When they reached the bathroom door he stopped her progress briefly.

“Please don’t lock the door.” He asked, “I ain’t gonna come in ‘less I need to but if I hear a crash or a fall,  I’m gettin’ in there, whether it’s locked or not.” He softened his tone, he didn’t mean it to sound like a threat. “Just rather not bust my shoulder up gettin’ to ya, if ya need me. OK?”

“OK,” she replied “I promise.”

She was careful in the bathroom. Moving very deliberately and tentatively. She didn’t want to push herself and risk a fall. She knew Daryl wasn’t bluffing and she couldn’t deal with that level of further embarrassment.

She was surprised to see how clean the room was. She could smell bleach and figured Daryl had taken steps to make sure the room was sanitised. She was glad of that. It was their kitchen, as well as their bathroom. She’d always been careful to preserve a good level of sanitation in here herself, she was glad he’d kept it up; even though she felt a prick of uneasiness at not knowing how bad of a mess he’d actually had to witness and deal with.

She briefly washed her hair and scrubbed at her body. Just a 'lick and a promise' to get rid of the worst of the sweat and grime that had built up during her illness and day of rest. She’d take another shower tomorrow, when she was stronger and more able to make a proper job of it. This would suffice for now. Just enough to stop her feeling like a pig in her own filth.

She’d brought fresh underwear, a T-shirt and leggings to change into. Just the fresh clothes on her clean skin felt like heaven.  She didn’t bother with moisturiser – that could wait until she was feeling stronger. Folding her soiled bra and pants under her arm she re-emerged to find Daryl waiting for her at the door.

“I’m fine.” She laughed. “I can manage on my own, honestly.”

“I know.” He replied. “Just here if you need me.”

Kit smiled at the reminder of her own words to him on their first morning together. As they walked side by side, she was suddenly aware, after her own shower, that Daryl smelled pretty good too and his hair had been washed at some point today. She was glad he’d taken a little time to take care of himself, as well as tending to her and presumably the dog’s needs too.

He filled a bowl of the still pleasantly warm soup and they sat side by side to share it. Kit had been insistent that she’d only want a couple of spoonfuls. After the first eight spoonfuls, they both gave up the pretence. Daryl handed the bowl to her, emptied a little more from the pan into it and then dug his own spoon into what was left in the pan.

“Couple spoonfuls my ass.” He groused, good-naturedly and they both smiled.

She made her own way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and have a pee before the sun finally set. Daryl washed out the pan and bowl downstairs, checked the house and used the bathroom himself on his return. She’d reminded him to take his antibiotics and he’d assured her he would. He took them with a smile, at the fact that she still had the energy to fuss and care over his hurts, while she was still so weak herself.

When he walked back into the bedroom he found her shifting the covers around on the bed, like she wasn’t sure what to do next.

“I…um.” She began, “suppose I should go back in there.” Indicating the closet. “Give you your bed back, now I’m back in the land of the living.” She smiled, that shy little smile he used to think he caught sometimes when they were alone. He hoped he was reading her right now.

“If you want to.” He shrugged, “Ain’t gonna try an’ stop ya but I think you should stay out here.” He was thinking on his feet now, struggling for a good reason. “It’s a straighter shot to the bathroom if you have a relapse in the night.” It was a weak-ass argument and he knew it but she seemed to bite.

She nodded slightly. “If you don’t mind sharing?” She responded.

“Nah.” He mumbled happily, making his way around the bed, glad she couldn’t see the stupid grin on his face.

In the gloom of the last light of the day, they heard the dog coming home through the mid-stairs window and tucking into her supper, as they made themselves comfortable on the bed. Considering the amount of coverings available and the size of the bed, there was plenty of room for them both to sleep like starfish, without coming within an inch of touching. They didn’t though. Both gravitated towards the middle of the bed. Comfortably resuming their positions from earlier that day.

In the darkness and with no discouragement from Daryl, Kit found herself comfortably moulding into his side again. Resting her hand on his chest, just below the collarbone. Her head nestled at his shoulder, his arm pulling her gently to his side, his hand resting on her hip. Such a break with every natural inclination, about personal space, that either of them had ever had. Such an unbelievably intimate, close coupling of their bodies. Totally alien but after the rigours of the past forty-eight hours, the bond that had always been there had been tested and tempered to another level, since they’d found each other again. Neither of them could have contemplated sleeping in any other attitude that night.

As they drifted off in each other’s arms, the dog came to join them on Kit’s side, at the foot of the bed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just throwing out an extra only 'lightly re-worked' chapter in between new and newish content.

He should have been concentrating on his task. Cataloguing the meds, that they’d cherry-picked and agreed on, as her trade goods for Alexandria. She’d been more generous than he thought she should be but she’d been happy to throw in the extra because he’d been helping her out, shoring up her store, for the past two days. Daryl couldn’t really argue with her about it, as much as he’d like to see her getting a fair deal, he also had to think of Alexandria. They were his people now. Some of them were as close to family as he’d ever get and he had to get them a good deal too. At the end of the day he was also really hoping that the whole thing would end up being academic anyway. He was hoping against hope that she’d stay. That he’d never have to say goodbye to her ever again.

She’d insisted that he check everything she planned to trade and take proper account, so Rick could trust that he was getting what she said he was. She’d also packed up a bag of ‘gifts’ for his family, in the hopes that it would earn her a little good-will when she asked to stay for a day or two. He’d told her she didn’t need to and that she’d be welcome as his guest. He felt a little like he was puffing up his own importance, as he said it but he was pretty certain that it was also true.

She just shook her head at him. “Grew up with a lot of different people and a lot of different families as a kid but there were a couple of things they all agreed on. You don’t turn up to stay as a guest at someone’s house empty handed.” Daryl couldn’t say that that was a policy he’d ever had drummed into him but he kind of liked it and she seemed determined, so he let it go.

He could tell she was nervous. She hadn’t sat down since they got back this afternoon. After her recovery, she’d been ready to get going again on day three and they’d done everything she’d ever planned to do in the past two days. Garvey had been ‘dredged’ and the cream was sitting safe and sound in an inconspicuous store-room. She’d be leaving this place in good shape, in case she ever needed a bolt-hole and they had two vehicles gassed up, to be left near her next target town. So he guessed her life would be a little easier for his having been here, if the worst happened and she did decide not to stay in Alexandria.

She had no reason to be nervous but Daryl could read her like a book by now. She was terrified of having to deal with people, with an established, functioning civilisation. He’d done his best to reassure her, about what she could expect but he guessed three years was a long time to be out here alone. If it’d been him, he’d have been more animal than man by now and might have forgotten how to speak at all. By that standard, he figured she was doing pretty well.

He watched her pace past the bedroom door for the tenth time in as many minutes. She was just making up work for herself now, packing and then re-packing, like a bat-shit crazy woman. He’d watched her re-pack, that big old backpack of hers, three times already. She was beginning to drive him nuts.

“Kit – for fucksakes!” he said, standing in the second bedroom doorway, arms crossed, brooking no arguments. “Give it the hell up woman. That bag ain’t gonna get no better packed than it is.” She looked up at him frantically for a moment, with a collection of balled up socks in one hand and ….was that some kind of fucking lady-shaver in the other??? She just might be the best provisioned and most organised fucking nut-case he’d ever met.

Caught out in her madness, she deflated in front of him, some of her tension dissipating, as she realised how ridiculous she was being. “I know, I know. You’re right.” She said, shaking her head “It’s just..”

“Just nothin’… c’mon.” he motioned with his hand to indicate she should wind it up now. “I’m gonna start dinner – be dark soon. You got ten minutes to wrap this shit up or I’m gonna come back and drag your ass away from it….. Ya bin warned.” He didn’t stick around to argue, just walked off to get the stove on. End of discussion.

Kit watched him go, a little irritated to be ordered about in her own squat but she had to admit he had a point. She was being a bit mental. She put the contents of her hands back in the compartments she’d just extracted them from. He was right, the bag wouldn’t get any better packed from her fussing over it again.

It had been strange, having him around the past few days but she had been genuinely surprised how comfortable that ‘strangeness’ had been. He wasn’t obtrusive at all, didn’t impose himself or try to bend her plans to his own will (usually!!). He’d just settled in, at her side and done whatever needed doing. Despite what he’d said, she couldn’t imagine that she’d have dealt half as well with her illness without him and she couldn’t imagine anyone else on earth would have done as much for her or made her feel as safe and cared for through it.

Since then he’d been a true partner in her work and a companionable room-mate in her home. When he saw a flaw in her plans he pointed it out, he made suggestions and he did things that he could see would help, without needing to be asked. They’d been a team and she had to say she’d enjoyed it and she’d enjoyed his company.

She’d especially enjoyed their comfortable silences, in between equally comfortable conversations. And she’d even more especially enjoyed their comfortable sleeping arrangements. Neither of them had said another word about it, after that third night together but as darkness fell each night, they were to be found preparing to sleep, curled up on the big bed together. 

As the week progressed she’d come to terms with just how strongly she felt about him and just how much she needed him in her life, now she’d found him again. Even this ‘bossy-boots’ Daryl. She needed it and he was doing what was best for her, she wasn’t mad enough not to see that and she respected where he was coming from. She wasn’t crazy about being ‘told off’ like a child but he WAS right and he had earned the right, over the past few days to call her out on it. She was just so terrified of hating Alexandria and Daryl’s ‘family’. What if he’d found a whole bunch of useless muppets or a shower of ‘Merles’ to hangout with?

Whatever the case with his family though, she was beginning to realise that she’d have to suck it up. Whatever the situation in Alexandria, Daryl was just too important to her now to even contemplate losing him. Just on a practical level; he’d been incredibly useful in leaving her in a good position here in Garvey and he’d even helped her prep her next target. He’d earned his stripes, as a true friend these past few days but today had been another level.

They’d been so quick and efficient, as a team yesterday, that Garvey had been all sewn up in one day. They’d even had time to find him a much needed new pair of ‘pants’, to replace the torn and still bloody, even after washing, pair he’d arrived here in.

This morning had been all about prepping the landy for the Alexandria visit and the two cars to leave in Patterson. It had certainly been good to have someone, who was genuinely mechanically minded, to help with the vehicles. They’d dropped one off this morning and would take the other on their way tomorrow. The afternoon had been a morbid luxury.

She’d raised the subject last night, as they’d laid together in the dark, planning their tasks for today. He hadn’t flinched when she told him about the plans she’d always had for those kids in the yard on the edge of town. She told him how she’d watched from afar as he’d put them down one-by-one only four days ago and thought she saw him consider doing more but he hadn’t had the time. He confirmed that it’d crossed his mind to check the shop for something flammable, as she’d suspected but he’d had more pressing priorities.

When she told him about the propane and her plans he’d been relieved. He’d thought about that yard a fair bit the past couple of days and although they’d avoided that part of town so far, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he’d thought of sneaking off at some point before they left Garvey, to make himself a little funeral pyre. The fact that they were both so squarely on the same page on this was a relief to them both. It just reiterated how well they knew each other, without even needing to try.

It would have been hard, soul destroying, work for either of them on their own but together it had taken only half an hour to arrange the bodies on a pyre of packing crates and pallets. The sad repetition of hauling twenty-six former children, reduced to the state of gargoyle-like husks of their little selves, would have eroded even the most insensitive, brutish heart. The fact that neither of them were insensitive brutes and that they’d undertaken the task together, treating each body with some respect and acknowledging the horror of what had happened to these little people, had kept them both sane through it.

They’d stood together, hand unconsciously slipping into hand, as the flames caught and licked hungrily through the lines of small bodies. Neither of them had made a speech or said a prayer or anything so pointless. They both understood the enormity of the tragedy of those children. Of all the children and all the adults, for that matter, who’d suffered and died since this all began. Neither Daryl nor Kit could honestly say that the new world hadn’t actually done them a few favours personally… but the price – when you saw it laid out in rows like this – had been far too much.

They hadn’t uttered a word but each had drawn immense comfort from the other’s presence and touch. They’d both been glad that, though they’d each been willing to, neither of them had had to perform this solemn duty alone.

When they returned, Kit had taken her last shower, washing away the stench of the dead and truly saying goodbye to this place. She’d only used two of the solar shower packs though, leaving one for Daryl. He hadn’t asked and he might not want it but she’d left it set up for him just in case. He’d seemed reticent to deprive her of her little luxuries. Especially as he knew that they’d both be able to shower to their hearts content when they got back to Alexandria but he had to admit that washing away the afternoon’s sombre little ceremony would be welcome. She’d helped him tape off his leg wound, to prevent it getting wet and left him to it.

Daryl was definitely feeling back on form now and he was grateful to be returning home looking a damn sight stronger and more himself than he had been after his disastrous day earlier this week and losing David. Sitting around on his ass recuperating for three nights and two full days after his knife wound and other injuries, had done him the world of good. Despite being active all day yesterday and much of today, he’d held up well and expected to be fighting fit in a week or so. Right now, he was more than capable of getting around without help and moving quickly enough to evade walkers if necessary.

It was when he’d emerged from the shower, to find a bat-shit crazy lady that looked a lot like Kit, buzzing back and forth like she was on speed or something, that things had got weird. He’d left her to it for a bit but something had had to be said in the end and he felt like he could say it. She wasn’t gonna fly off the handle just ‘cos he called her on her ‘crazy half hour’. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t go back on their agreement about Alexandria, or get pissy with him over a few home truths. He hoped not anyway.

As Kit’s ten minutes elapsed, she sat her backpack by the bedroom door and made her way back to their main living quarters in the master bedroom, before Daryl came looking for her and made good on his promise. She checked in on him in the house bathroom as she passed and found him stirring the pan on the stove thoughtfully.

“Almost ready.” He said, looking up from his task and noticing her at the door. “You all done?”

“Yes. No more packing I promise Mr. Daryl sir.” She joked, saluting him from the doorway. He nodded at that, half smiling as he returned his attention to the pot. “I’ll pop and get us something to drink with dinner.” She offered, closing the door and making her way downstairs.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was always Kit's backstory, I just hadn't fleshed it out in the previous version.

Kit had brought a bottle of “fizz” she called it. Daryl called it some pretty fancy-ass looking champagne. He wasn’t sure about it, having never actually tried the stuff before but she’d brought him up a six-pack of beers too, in case he didn’t like it. She’d insisted they have a glass each of ‘bubbly’ though, just to toast Garvey for being so good to her and to mark her last night here before heading to Alexandria to make new friends.

“And to old friends.” She added, raising her glass a second time.

Daryl liked that. “Old friends.” He repeated back to her, leaning forward to touch glasses and do this shit right.

“Cheers.” She said, bringing her glass to her lips, catching Daryl’s eye as she did so. If you’re going to toast, best do it properly, she thought.

“Damn!” Daryl looked at his glass as if it had bitten him.

“What’s wrong?” Kit asked with concern.

“This shit’s pretty nice.” He sounded totally shocked by the idea of actually liking some fancy, rich person’s drink. “We got any more?”

“Hah! Yeah, we got plenty.” She laughed, downing the rest of her glass in one.

They ate on the big bed, as usual. The dog had been banned from going back out tonight, Kit didn’t want her wandering off and them having to comb the neighbourhood shouting for her in the morning, so she sat with them. She’d taken a shine to Daryl these past few days and Kit had to admit it was good to see her being fussed over, as she’d just never been able to bring herself to do.

She and the dog would always have a strong bond and they’d always be a good team but Kit could see she was missing out on something by just travelling with this closed-off, non-dog-person for so long. She was glad that she was finally getting a bit of what she needed from Daryl. He seemed to have a natural affinity with her from day one but he’d grown to respect her a lot more since he’d seen her in action.

Even since dealing with the dead woman in the dentists, she’d saved his life and Kit’s by taking out two walkers, that neither of them had even known were there, only yesterday. Even when they had no idea she was around, she’d suddenly bound out of nowhere to alert them to danger up ahead. Or she’d release a low whine and look to the door, when they were in a building, to let them know they had company. They couldn’t have got on so efficiently, taking the time to be respectful this afternoon, if she hadn’t been watching their backs, ensuring their safety, while they got on with their task.

The dog was damned useful to have around and she’d earned the affection he lavished on her over dinner. After they’d eaten, Kit took the bowls down to the kitchen and returned with another bottle of “fizz”. It was beginning to get dark though and they retreated to Kit’s ‘room’ to finish their last glasses of the old bottle, before starting on the new. They were both in the mood to stay up a little later tonight, so they set up the camping lantern and got comfortable behind closed doors.

The dog had had her fill of affection for one night and sensing some weird change of mood in her companions, slipped off to roam around the house one last time before bed. She knew what not being allowed out meant and she understood that this would be her last sleep in this place. She had corners to say goodbye to.

Daryl and Kit sat companionably in the wardrobe, chatting over the plans for tomorrow one last time. Daryl talked about his friends again, helping her get a handle on names, histories, relationships. She wasn’t sure how much help this conversation would actually be though, as they’d been toasting again and had almost polished off the second bottle.

As they got even more drunk, they got more honest about the things they’d held back on for the previous few days. Daryl confessed some of the darker chapters of the group’s more recent history with the Saviours and Negan. Kit didn’t judge and she shared some of her own darker baggage. She’d killed people too. Bad people. People who would have done things to her and killed her when they were finished, had she not but still…

“Murder stains your soul a little doesn’t it?” she’d said “Even if the fucker deserved it.”

Daryl had to agree with that. He felt the weight of all of those he’d lost but he also felt the weight of all of those he’d removed from the world with his own hands. He’d told her about his brother then. What he’d had to do for Merle. And then he’d told her about the things he and Merle had endured as children – well, child and teenager. He told her about his mother’s death. He told her about his dad. About how he’d become the focus of his dad’s anger, during drunken sprees of self-loathing and Merle’s absence. He told her about his scars.

Kit listened and really seemed to understand. Daryl was only really beginning to understand himself this past year or so, since he’d really looked at himself and been honest about where he had come from and what it had done to him. She’d known children who’d been physically and mentally abused by their parents.

“Seemed to always be the sweet ones.” She mused, “Always the ones that didn’t deserve it.” She shook her head sadly, maybe remembering a particular kid. “It’s like their parents saw this sweet, innocent, good-natured vessel and just tried to dump all their ugliness and pain out into it. Tried to ruin it, just because they were broken themselves and couldn’t bear to see something pure and whole.”

Daryl couldn’t really cope with analysing that right now, so he tried to switch the conversation back onto her. Kit had shared some more about her early life too. About loneliness and feeling freakish and ashamed. He understood loneliness, she was an orphan after all, she’d never had any blood to watch out for her, any connections she’d made she’d had to forge for herself from nothing. He figured that accounted for freakishness to an extent as well. She’d briefly mentioned the stretch marks she figured he’d already noticed. He hadn’t. The only thing he could recall about her skin, the day he’d undressed her, was how silky soft it was to his touch. He’d tried not to think about that too much at the time, or since, as it tended to distract him from whatever he was doing at the time. He hadn’t understood about why she should feel shame though and tried to ask her about it now.

She’d tried to explain something about other children and about some abuse and perversions not just being at the hands of adults. About shutting down part of yourself to protect the whole and struggling under the weight of not being yourself. She thought he’d understood that bit at least but he still didn’t really get it.

She knew she wasn’t making a whole lot of sense. She wasn’t putting it clearly enough. She couldn’t face the words. They were both too drunk by now to know what they were saying anyway. They’d finished off the champagne and moved on to the beers a while ago. As she looked at his accepting but confused expression, she decided she couldn’t leave it at that. It might just be the booze but she felt like Daryl was the best friend she’d ever had in her life and the one person she could trust with all her secrets; as she knew he’d just trusted all of his to her.

“I was abused.” She blurted out, before she had a chance to chicken out.

He moved immediately to put a comforting arm around her. Obviously horrified, imagining that someone had beaten a little girl, the way he’d been beaten.

“Not like you were.” She clarified quickly, as she felt her throat closing up and the tears gathering in the wings. “I was younger. Very young. It was older kids, not adults, not that much older. Probably didn’t really realise what they were doing themselves.” She mused, in a mumbled whisper.

Daryl’s heart ached and he desperately didn’t want her to say what he knew she was about to say. His face began to crumple in a frustrated, mournful, rage about something he couldn’t do a damn thing about. Something that had happened thirty years ago, or more, to a defenceless little girl he wished he’d been there to protect.

“Technically rape I s’pose. Sexual abuse anyway. ….a few times.” She felt his arm freeze in the tight grip around her shoulders. “Always shied away from any kind of intimacy after that. Surprised more case workers didn’t pick up on it.” She couldn’t believe she was still talking. That the tears hadn’t come and made it impossible yet. Maybe it was the booze or the company but she felt OK. It felt good to talk actually. She’d tried to get across something of it to one or two people before but she’d never got very far.

“Pretty sure some of them did know. Didn’t push it though…’let sleeping dogs lie’ I suppose.” She shook herself out of that road to self-pity. “Anyway, so hence the lack of letting anyone get close, no boyfriend, husband, kids, family, etcetera.” She risked a small glance in Daryl’s direction but didn’t dare make eye contact. “Quite liberating to actually tell someone why, after all these years.” She said “You’re allowed to be a single man at our age but you wouldn’t believe the shit you used to get for being on your own, if you were a woman and not showing signs of being remotely interested in even looking.”

She actually laughed. A small exhalation of breath, nothing more but it broke the last thread of Daryl’s heart and he couldn’t take any more. He pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck, much as he had on first sight of her four days earlier.

He couldn’t believe she’d trusted him with this, couldn’t believe the bravery of a kid pulling herself out of that situation, bettering herself, getting out and having a life. A fuckin’ good life, from what she’d told him. And all the time, carrying this dark shit around with her like a weight. It was something like his weight, he guessed but really not much. Hers was far worse, by his estimation and she’d done far better dealing with hers than he had with his. He’d wasted his life until the world literally ended and he’d HAD to step up. She’d made something of herself. She was a better person than he was. A better person than anyone he knew, before or after. And here she was, telling him things she’d never told anyone else. Trusting him.

“I ain’t never met anyone like you Kit.” He whispered into her hair “You’re the bravest, strongest, best person I know and you been this way your whole fuckin’ life, seems like.” He released her a little, as he spoke. “S a privilege to even know ya.” Their faces now, on a level, not quite touching but cheek almost to cheek.

“Hmmh,” she half-laughed “Right back at you.” She whispered, as the drink emboldened them both at the same moment. Something electric fizzed in the ether between them and as they moved in symbiotic unison, their lips brushed against each other and they fell into a tender, comforting kiss.

Neither Daryl, nor Kit, spoke another word that night. Their mouths were otherwise engaged. Their lips had somehow met. Eyes closed. Heads tilted. Pressure, proximity and intoxicating intimacy created a spark of passion and as Daryl reached for the nape of her neck and caressed her with a gentle hand. Lips parted and all was lost if either of them had wanted out of this.

They kissed like the teenagers neither of them had ever been, making out on a friend’s sofa, oblivious to everyone and everything else at the party. They clung to each other for dear life, like drowning sailors and hardly came up for air. Kit’s brain was overloaded and she’d parked it for the foreseeable, preferring the infinitely more enjoyable feedback from her booze addled senses.

The taste of him, the smell of him, the sound of her eager fingers brushing through his scruffy beard and hair, the almost inaudible growl in the back of his throat, reverberating through her body, the feel of his skin, his tongue on hers.

Her own physical reactions were immediate and totally beyond her control. Her nipples almost ached as they formed bullet-like protrusions against her top. The butterflies that had begun to gather from the moment she’d caught sight of him in Garvey, four days ago, had finally morphed into some kind of volcano in her belly. Molten lava flowed through her veins and arteries, settling in her lower abdomen and she was pretty certain that the pants she was wearing were beyond help at this point, maybe even the leggings too.

She’d never even dreamt, in her wildest imagination, of finding someone she might ever really WANT to kiss and now here she was. And here HE was. She’d never shared as much of herself with another person as willingly, or as completely, as she was now, with Daryl. This was all new and all unbelievably wonderful to her. 

As they toppled over into a more comfortable, horizontal heap, their kisses became more languorous and tender. They’d both drunk a lot that night. Their heads were spinning with more than just desire and it had been a long and tiring day. Neither of them could ever be sure who had conked out first but they fell asleep, happily entwined in each other’s arms. Each with the taste of the other’s lips, heavy on their satisfied tongues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am interested to know people's opinions on how this is progressing. Too fast, too slow etc. There'll be a lot of interaction with other characters coming up too, so any ideas or suggestions might make their way into the narrative, if you'd like to make any.  
> Thanks for reading.


	26. Chapter 26

They woke the next morning, to the sound of the dog scratching at the door, entangled in each other’s arms. They were both fully clothed and neither of them were hungover enough to have lost any memories of the night before, so they knew nothing beyond a ‘PG’ rating had happened but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing to have to extract themselves from an unconscious embrace. Especially when neither could be sure exactly how much the other remembered and had been in control of their own actions the night before.

Both red faced and mumbling apologies, Daryl was thankful, as Kit rushed to open the door and see to the dog. As she left she promised to bring back some water and pain killers, if he needed them, once she’d let her do her business in the yard.

He was thankful that she had seemed too distracted and was now too busy with other things to notice, his massive morning glory. It had been a fucking long time since Daryl Dixon had woken up with an erection on this scale. Half his lifetime ago probably. Certainly not any time in the last three years anyway. It wasn’t helping his hangover much, to have to deal with THIS shit on top of it but there was nothing else for it. She’d be busy for a few minutes. This thing needed attending to.

He grabbed a few wet-wipes from the little emergency ‘bug-out-bag’ she kept by the ‘bed’ and got to work, cursing his traitorous body. It had been a long-ass time since he’d touched himself for any reason other than taking a piss but the last time he had had been for the same exact reason. Kit.

As he worked on the problem in hand, Daryl now had far more ‘in the bank’ to work with at least. He hated himself for thinking of Kit that way, especially after last night but he couldn’t help but use every unconsciously-sexy image of her from the past few days and add them to that moment by the lake. He really didn’t have long and this really did need dealing with.

___________________

 

Patterson had been uneventful and the car was in place and camouflaged well before noon. Daryl was grateful for an easy morning, as they were both in a delicate state from the night before. It wasn’t so much the hangover, as neither of them actually suffered much with that but the waking up in such close quarters and the uncertainty of how to deal with the night before, which seemed to have messed with their minds.

They seemed to be somehow back on square one. Not knowing how much of last night had been mutual and how much each had ‘forced’ on the other. They were still companionable. Still friendly but the banter had gone. The playfulness was gone. Awkwardness and uncertainty were back with a vengeance.

For Daryl there was the additional niggling worry of this morning’s impressive erection and the, now certain, knowledge that it meant more than random biology. He knew now, after last night, after finally tasting her sweet lips. After all these years he finally knew that she was it. She was all he would ever need or want again. After abusing her vulnerability and taking advantage of her, like a fucking animal, he knew he didn’t deserve her but he knew he’d never get over her.

Having pulled the last of the camouflage over the car bonnet, they both returned to the landy and Daryl joined Kit in the cab. As he swung into place he vaguely noticed her fumbling with the charging lead on the cigarette lighter. He hadn’t seen whatever she bundled into the backpack behind her but it had been replaced with an MP3 player.

The landy was the most basic vehicle he’d ever been in and apparently British farmers of the nineteen-nineties didn’t require stereo systems at all. Or maybe U.S. flyboys of the twenty-first century just hadn’t got around to that part yet. Despite its lack of creature comforts though, Daryl had to admire its sheer durability and the fact that any fool with a wrench and a roll of duct tape could keep the damn thing going indefinitely, come hell or high water.

Kit handed him the player as she pulled onto the road and told him he could be DJ but they’d only hear what came out of the portable speaker, plugged into the player, so he’d “better whack it up to eleven.”

She actually smiled at him as she said it and Daryl marvelled at her resilience yet again. Had she really found it in her heart to forgive him for last night already? He couldn’t conceive of a world where she could satisfactorily rationalise the wrong he’d done her but she actually seemed ‘OK’ with him. Willing to go through with their deal, happy to share the small space in the cab with him and let him be DJ.

He wanted to blurt out apologies. Clear the air. Make her understand that he’d never meant to take such a liberty but he didn’t know how to start and dreaded her reaction. Maybe she didn’t remember everything, maybe talking about it would make it worse, maybe she’d dump his ass by the side of the road, turn the car around and drive off. Maybe he’d never see her again if he pushed it now. He bit his lip and decided to keep it buttoned for now.

Daryl couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in control of the sound-track on a road-trip. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time a road-trip had felt like a road-trip. This one did though. The dog sat up in the space between them, the bag of snacks-for-the-road by his feet. With his crossbow and her recurve takedown hunting bow jostling together on top of her ‘armoury’ box in the back, they could be setting out on a Labor Day Weekend hunt back in the real world. This trip actually did feel like a road-trip and made up a little for this morning’s weirdness.

He flicked through her music collection and deciding there was far too much and it was all far too eclectic for him to narrow down, he settled on a playlist. ‘Happy travelling music’. Much of it was entirely unknown to him but what he recognised on the list, he liked. Once the playlist started he discovered that what he didn’t recognise, he thought he’d probably grow to like…. given the chance. It was a three hour drive, along backroads and farm tracks, from here to Alexandria and Daryl never skipped a single track.

________________

As they neared Alexandria, the knot of anxiety in Kit’s belly mushroomed to ridiculous proportions. She found herself praying that a herd, or some other dire emergency, would halt their progress. Today had been so weird. After the promise of yesterday, the joy of being so totally on the same page with another person, the revelation of being able to share her darkest moments and the sheer physical and emotional pleasure of connecting bodily with the only human being she could ever imagine wanting to touch her like that. After all of that, today had been somewhat of a washout so far.

They were about to arrive at Alexandria and Kit was scared stiff of everything that could go wrong. Scared of hating Daryl’s family, worried about how she would fit in. She hadn’t considered for a second that they might not accept her, otherwise she’d have been panicking about that too.

Her main source of worry though, was the change between her and Daryl. She knew he wasn’t really one for expressing his feelings vocally much but she honestly had no idea if he even knew what had happened last night. She couldn’t tell if he didn’t remember a thing and if that were the case she was desperate to know at what point his memory had cut out exactly. Or possibly, if he did remember some of it but not all and wasn’t sure what she remembered and that accounted for the awkwardness. Or maybe and most distressingly, if he did remember the whole thing and wished it hadn’t happened and THAT was why he hadn’t acknowledged it or spoken to her about it.

As they saw the walls looming ahead, Kit tried to shake herself out of this funk. She hadn’t said anything either, she couldn’t blame him for something she was being a massive coward about too. She should have just been brave this morning, insisted on talking about it and just clearing the air. Too late now. Here they were and whatever was happening, or not happening, between them would have to wait until after.

She rolled the car to a stop, a little way back from the gate and closed her eyes as she took a deep steadying breath.

Daryl reached across and she felt his hand cover hers, his fingers gently prizing hers from the steering wheel. It took her a second to register that he’d switched the music off too. ‘I predict a riot’ by the Keiser Chiefs, she hoped that wasn’t ominous.

“It’ll be fine Kit.” He rasped, squeezing her hand gently for emphasis. “I promise, everythin’s gonna be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... couldn't let it be that easy for a pair of emotional fuckwits like DD & Kit.
> 
> This is a bit short but the next one's a big one, so hopefully it evens out and then we're into 'totally new' territory again.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter with a big chunk of similarity to the original story.

The flurry of activity at the gate had drawn his attention instantly. The immediate threat of the Saviours was gone but it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that some of the splintered remains of that group were still out there and still wanted blood. Rick lived in a constant state of, barely contained, panic these days. If Negan had taught him anything worth knowing, it was that panic was appropriate in this world and that if you let your guard down and allowed yourself to believe you were safe and prepared and had it all worked out, for even a millisecond, someone would hold up a mirror and show you what hubris looks like.

Even nature wasn’t to be trusted. Rick knew very well that even a one-in-a-thousand killer virus could spell disaster for a community of any size, when every one of them carried the thing that would reanimate them if they died. He’d been reticent to open the gates two days ago, when talk of just such a virus had turned up, unannounced, at this very gate. If it had been anyone but Maggie asking, he’d have turned them away.

As it was, the community now had its own little quarantine area and Rick was silently praying that the messenger from Hilltop earlier today was right. The virus took around twenty-four hours to set in and show itself and another twenty-four to work through most people, the very young and the very old took a little less and a little more respectively. No fatalities as yet. Maggie, Carol, Enid and three other ‘vulnerable people’ had arrived almost forty-eight hours ago now. No signs so far. It meant they should be clean. He’d be safe though – leave them where they were until tomorrow morning. A few more hours, just to be safe, couldn’t hurt.

Rick understood the guards’ tension considering but it was Daryl, the shouts from the gate confirmed. Rick motioned for them to let him in. He didn’t get why they’d hesitated for a second, Daryl was one of them, they should have let him in even if his arm was hanging off and he was bit all over, just so he could die here with his family. Although Rick knew, as well as he knew his own name, that if Daryl ever got bit there’s no way on earth he’d risk coming back here to die. Rick knew that Daryl would rather die out there alone and in agony than risk bringing death back here with him. Which is why, when he did show up at the gate, he should find it willingly and quickly opened for him.

He understood their reticence a little better when he saw the Land Rover crawl across their threshold and the unfamiliar woman in the driver’s seat (which should, by rights, have been the passenger seat).

As Rick approached the car, with a mixture of joy, at seeing his brother back safe and sound and abject horror that David was nowhere to be seen and Daryl had chosen to bring home a fucking stray, the passenger door (which should have been the driver’s door) opened before the vehicle came to a complete halt.

“Rick, I lost David.” Daryl began, approaching the man he’d come to consider a second brother with out-stretched arms, to subtly show that there were no threats here. “We got over-run.”

Rick was sorry to hear it. David had seemed like a decent kid, might have made a good fighter one day but he hadn’t had any close kin in these walls. There’d be no howling mothers or sisters to deal with, so his loss wasn’t the main priority right now. Rick acknowledged Daryl’s words and accepted the quick back slapping hug of a greeting but didn’t take his eyes off the woman in the car, or her dog.

“This here’s Kit.” Daryl offered, “She’s a friend Rick. She helped me out, cleaned me up and gave me somewhere safe to rest up ‘fore she brought me home.” Rick stole a quick glance in Daryl’s direction. He’d never heard the other man so ready to admit to needing help before. His eyes quickly darted back to the stranger though. A little less hostile but no less wary.

“Thought you weren’t looking for strays anymore Daryl.” Rick grumbled low enough for her not to hear.

“I ain’t.” Replied Daryl, matching Rick’s low register. “And she ain’t.” He said. Noting Rick’s confusion he added “She’s no stray Rick. No stranger neither. I knew her before. She been on her own out there almost from the start but she don’t need saving. She’s here to trade and I told her she’d be welcome to stay a few days, as my guest but she don’t WANT to stay no longer.” Daryl caught Rick’s eye and held it at last. “You’re gonna want her to though man, I can promise you that. She’s one o’ the most useful people I’ve ever met, before or after and we’re gonna want to convince her to stay. You can trust me on that.”

Rick did trust him. Daryl was one of the few people on earth that Rick would ever entrust with his life and more importantly, the lives of his children. If there was anything that he had learned about the man in front of him these past three years, it was that when shit got real and someone was coming for you, you really wanted Daryl Dixon in your corner. So Daryl’s say so carried a lot of weight and gave whatever or whoever he was vouching for a little credit. It didn’t sew up the deal though. Daryl hadn’t been infallible as far as ‘good-people-radar’ was concerned, so Kit would need some scrutiny before she got free reign. Whatever Daryl had promised her.

________________

 

An hour later Rick had to admit she seemed like the real deal.

It had quickly become apparent that Daryl had known Kit only briefly before the turn. Something that definitely made the former sheriff pay close attention. Some of her previous work and survival experience would be invaluable skills for their community and if first impressions paid off, Rick had to admit that Daryl was right and Rick was going to want her to stay. One person with a skill set like Daryl’s was a fucking boon for the community, in this day and age but two…. Well, that was bordering on luxury.

She was polite and articulate but Rick spotted her bullshit façade straight off. It didn’t concern him overly, underneath the front she put on he saw that she was a little withdrawn, almost shy. She was masking extreme nervousness, that was all, he was almost certain. He couldn’t blame her. She’d just walked into the most heavily armed, battle hardened, stronghold for miles around. She was out-numbered, out-gunned and if they chose to ignore the civilities, they could take whatever they wanted from her and she couldn’t do shit about it. He wasn’t entirely sure that, if he’d been in her shoes, there would be anything about Daryl that would have convinced him to walk inside these gates. ESPECIALLY the Daryl he’d met three years ago. Presumably the Daryl she knew best.

As he watched Kit go with Tara, to check the trade goods she’d brought, he caught the look she and Daryl shared for a split second. A look searching for reassurance and getting it. A look conveying trust and imbuing confidence. How the hell had that happened in four days? It had taken Rick weeks and endless shared adversity to get remotely near that point with Daryl. Despite having only known him, at both ends of their three year split, for just a few days; she trusted him with her life already and what’s more Daryl trusted her.

The only people in Alexandria that Daryl really trusted, trusted with the lives of his family, as he’d just trusted her to go off alone with Tara, knowing full well that by the sounds of it Tara would be no match for her if Kit decided to go ballistic, WERE his family. Even after the hoard invasion, even after Negan. He worked alongside the Alexandrians, had accepted that that was what they all were now, didn’t balk at their having a say, fought for their points of view occasionally and would trust them with his own back but he wouldn’t have trusted anyone but his core group, to look after Judith for more than two minutes. Rick saw immediately that Daryl would consider Kit a safe pair of hands for ANY member of his core family and that had to give Rick pause.

They hadn’t had a moment to exchange words, except for those mumbled sentences by the gate, without her being present. She clung, without touching or even being within touching distance, to Daryl from the moment she’d got out of the vehicle. Rick understood that. She’d been alone for the best part of three years. Daryl was probably the first human being she’d had much close contact with for months and now here she was, surrounded by scary ass new people. She needed the confidence and reassurance Daryl’s presence gave.

It was more than that though. They seemed to be attached by some kind of invisible cord and the cord went both ways. Daryl wasn’t happy about letting her out of his sight either. There was nothing Rick could do, without being a completely unreasonable asshole, but lead them somewhere quiet to discuss this ‘visit’. He’d wanted to question her harder than he had but feared the raising of her dog’s heckles no more than he did Daryl’s, who he could feel bristling by his side as he quizzed her.

Between them they’d given a full account of how they’d met, the predicament of the girls from Hilltop and bringing down the group who’d taken them. Rick had fought to hide how impressed he’d been by that. It wouldn’t hurt to have Hilltop owe them another debt either. He also fought the urge to tell Daryl never to do anything so stupid again and impress upon him how pissed off he’d be if Daryl got himself killed, one of these days, just ‘cos he couldn’t reign in his ‘hero’ instincts. That could wait.

He’d listened, with great interest, as they’d brushed over her sickness and the fact that Daryl had cared for her through it. Rick had identified the cause and filled them in. Wendy’s father had apparently been among the first to fall pray to Hilltop’s recent bout of a similar sounding ‘stomach flu’ type bug.

He wasn’t overly concerned about her being here for that though, by Daryl’s account, she’d been past it and fighting fit for more than two full days and he’d never shown any symptoms himself. He was extremely interested in the idea of Daryl as nursemaid though.

Every single time sickness had reared its head in the past three years, Daryl had been incapable of sitting still, helping to nurse the sick through it. It wasn’t that he was heartless, far from it but he was just incapable of not ‘doing something’ and to him, mopping a brow didn’t count. For him, action was action. Finding meds, fixing up equipment, something hands on, physical and practical. He wasn’t the first guy you’d expect to see by your bedside during a long, drawn out illness let’s put it that way. Rick had to wonder how he’d coped being cooped up with a sick woman. Her sole carer.

Rick could tell that both Kit and Daryl were leaving out chunks of information about exactly where she’d been and what she had going on in Garvey. He also knew that Daryl MUST know exactly what she had and where to find it but he also knew by now that he and Kit had made some tacit agreement to keep that kind of intel between them. Daryl would never sell her out and somehow she knew that as well as Rick did. That all kind of pissed him off and made him smile at the same time. But Rick would be damned if anyone alive was going to see the smile.

“What the fuck Daryl?” he asked as soon as she was out of earshot “she got your balls in a blender somewhere outside the walls or something?” Daryl shot him his deadliest scowl. “I get it, I get it.” He said holding up a steadying hand. “I see why you brought her, I see she could be an asset and god knows we needed the drugs she brought. I ain’t saying you shouldn’t have brought her here and I ain’t saying she can’t stay for a few days and trade with us when she’s nearby.” Rick watched as the other man’s face regained a little composure but he noticed him shift his weight nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I’m just saying, don’t think for a second I don’t know that she’s got resources we need somewhere in Garvey and that I don’t know that you know exactly where they are.”

Daryl squared up to Rick and answered him straight. “It’s her stuff. Ain’t mine, ain’t yours.” He pointed first at himself and then at Rick for emphasis. “She’s worked hard to make sure she’s got cushions for hard times and she’s out there every damn day on her own.” Rick had really hit a nerve here, “If it’d been up to me she’d have given us less in this trade than she is doing. Told her she was being too generous but she insisted, ‘cos she’s like that. I ain’t givin’ up her stash, don’t ask me to.”

Rick had rarely heard Daryl so passionate about anything for months, maybe even years. He was suddenly seeing flashes of the Daryl he’d known at the prison, before the darker chapters of their travels. The man he’d only fleetingly glimpsed now and again here in Alexandria, between bleak, desperate times and his occasional descent into sombre, black moods. Whoever she was, it might be worth keeping Kit sweet for a few days just to breathe life back into this man, who always deserved far more than he’d ever got out of life.

“Alright, alright. I’m not asking.” He said, holding up a consiliatory hand. “Just saying, don’t think I don’t know.” They both nodded.

“She can stay with Tara and the others, they got a spare room and she’ll be close, so we can keep an eye out for her.” Rick offered, adding “If we want to see what she’s made of then we need to see her in action. She can rest up the rest of today and tomorrow, take a look around, meet people, help in the garden or something if she’s bored but I need to send her with Aaron on a run and on a hunt with you and I want a full report from everyone who spends time with her.” Rick sensed Daryl’s conflicting feelings about having to test someone he already trusted, someone who already didn’t WANT to stay and might even be scared off by too much ‘red tape’.

“This isn’t the old world Daryl and we’ve gotta be more careful than we were before, especially with the smart ones that can manage on their own.” His tone was softer now, coaxing. “If she’s as much an asset as you say, I’ll be leading the charge on the charm offensive we lay out to keep her here. I promise you that brother but we aren’t just dishing out Green Cards to anyone. Not anymore. Even if we knew them before, don’t necessarily make ‘em friends now.”

Daryl nodded frustratedly. He got it and he could feel that Rick was coming around to his way of thinking already anyway. It didn’t take a genius to spot Kit’s value and he was sure that everyone she met would agree. He gave the other man a half smile and returned Rick’s pat of agreement on the arm “Alright.” He mumbled amiably.

They heard the dog and the women returning at that and Rick couldn’t help himself… before the ladies rounded the corner he said, low enough so they wouldn’t hear “I mean unless you wanna marry her or something, then obviously she gets a Green Card by default.” Rick enjoyed immensely Daryl’s discomfort at being so thrown off and not being able to do a damn thing about it in front of Tara and Kit.

As the two women tried to puzzle out how the two men had switched demeanours, from an amiable and encouraging Daryl and a hostile Rick, to an almost joyful Rick and a face-like-thunder Daryl, in the five minutes they’d been absent. Rick wondered just how close he was to the mark, with his last comment and Daryl tried to work out how to stop himself hitting Rick really hard in his fucking smug, stupid face.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeek - totally new stuff. Hope you enjoy.

He didn’t know what he’d expected to happen. Really, he supposed, he honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. Hadn’t dared hope he could convince her to come. Now she’d agreed, now she was here, he guessed this had always been the way it would go. He should have realised. Should have known. Should have made the most of their last morning alone together. Shouldn’t have been such a big fucking coward.

She had known. She understood, as Rick told her where she was staying. She’d looked right into Daryl’s eyes with a strange little sad-eyed smile. She’d known how it would go and he hadn’t even thought about it until right then.

People started coming in to drag his and Rick’s attention away from her. It worked on Rick and then Tara had started pulling Kit away. Drawing her off to “Come see where you’re staying.” And “Let’s move your jeep closer to the house.” Making up busy work to occupy her and get her out of the way.

Daryl was torn. Frantic. He couldn’t just leave her. She’d given him her bravest ‘I can do this!’ face, as Rick all but shooed them out the door. And he hadn’t seen her since.

“I’ll come see ya later.” He managed, weakly. She’d nodded. No one else would have thought it odd that she pulled the dog a little closer to her leg as they walked away but Daryl knew that was the first time he’d ever seen her touch the dog outside of their safe-house. The dog was the only one she could trust now. The only one who would always be there when needed, the only one who wouldn’t abandon her.

Hours..... It had been hours until he had freedom enough to go find her again. Two whole hours. Finally, Rick and Michonne had eased off on the interrogations and the endless prattle about ‘community’ shit he’d missed while he’d been gone and honestly couldn’t care less about.

All caught up on current events, he’d gone with Michonne to break the news about David to the guy’s closest friends, who’d just arrived back from their own run nearby. By this time it was late afternoon and he was missing her. Missing her like crazy. Barely able to hold it together enough to do David some justice and recount the story properly to the people who’d cared about him most.

As they made their way back towards their own house, Daryl couldn’t help but throw concerned glances towards Tara’s house and the landy parked out front. Looking exposed and lost amongst the suburban mansions. How could something so rugged and capable look so vulnerable, parked up by the neat curbs and orderly mailboxes of this bizarrely ‘ordinary’ place.

“You should probably shower first.” Michonne said. The first thing she’d said since they left David’s digs. Daryl usually liked hanging out with Michonne because she didn’t generally feel the need to fill a silence, so when she said something, out of the blue like this, it put the fear of god into him. It usually meant she’d seen something he hadn’t and he was about to discover some bad news about their current safety situation. Or else it meant she was about to drop some heavy ass wisdom on him. He looked at her warily as they walked.

She looked right back. “Clean yourself up a bit…..Make an effort….. We like that….. Girls.” She clarified, smiling.

“She don’t care what I look like.” He replied without thinking. “Should’a seen the state I was in when she found me out there.”

Michonne smiled her big ‘thank you for confirming what I had already suspected’ smile and Daryl shook his head and let out a little sigh.

“Lucky you.” She laughed. “So… were you two a ‘thing’ before?” she asked bluntly. She didn’t need to spell out 'before what'. Everyone knew what ‘before’ meant these days.

Daryl stopped right there. Didn’t want to get any closer to the houses with another interrogation in full swing. Didn’t want anyone overhearing anything that was none of their damn business. None of Michonne’s damn business either. Michonne stopped too, turned to face him. Unphased. Waiting for a response.

“Ain’t no ‘thing’ now.” He said finally. Wondering who he was trying to convince, while also worrying that it was now, very possibly, the truth.

“I’m gonna go ahead and call bullshit right there.” She said. “You can say whatever crap comes into your head but you are the worst liar in the world Daryl Dixon. You can force your mouth to say the words but you can’t make anyone believe them, while your eyes are burning holes in that house up there and your mind’s been wandering since the minute you lost sight of her. And don’t even get me started on those fidgety fingers of yours.”

Daryl snapped the thumb nail, he’d been worrying absentmindedly, out of her sight and into his pocket. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now. Not in the street. Not with Michonne.

He’d been lucky these last few months, they’d all just let him fade into the background after the trauma of Negan. Everyone had had their own wounds to heal. Occasionally someone would ask him if he was OK, or make some lame attempt to interest him in a project or something but mostly he was allowed to just putter along, at his usual baseline of mild depression and barely repressed anger. Michonne hadn’t turned her laser eyes on him for weeks. Now he was back in the full glare and it didn’t sit well.

“Ain’t no ‘thing’.” He insisted. “Gonna go see how she’s doin’, bin years since she was in company. Gon’ be weird for her here.” He reasoned and to his surprise, Michonne let it drop and fell back in by his side.

______________

“She’s a beauty.” Tara prattled on, as Kit tried to regulate her breathing and quell the rising panic bubbling away inside her. Tara was talking about the dog now. Couldn’t seem to get her head around the fact that Kit had never named her. Also didn’t seem aware how close she was to getting her head ripped off by crowding the animal too much.

“Don’t.” She reached out to stop Tara’s hand as the other woman reached to stroke the dog’s back. Tara looked up like a startled toddler, uncertain and instantly sorry. She obviously didn’t know what for but she was sorry none-the-less.

“She’s not used to other people.” Kit clarified quickly. “She’s used to being allowed to tear anything, human shaped, that tries to touch me, limb from limb.” The look of unspecified guilt had now morphed into abject terror on the poor girl’s face. Kit tried to lighten her tone. “She’s smart, she’ll get used to it but just give her some time and some space.”

“I guess we should stay away from kids then, while I show you around.” Said Tara, eyeing their surroundings nervously. “Maybe we should put her on the leash for a while?”

“She doesn’t have one.” Kit was pleased to note that her panic was beginning to subside, now she had the issue of the dog to concentrate on. “She’s well trained, she won’t do anything unless I tell her she can, or unless she feels physically threatened.” She smiled at Tara. “She’s not going to ‘go for’ anyone without my say so. She knows the difference between real people and the dead.”

Kit wasn’t sure how reassuring that had been for Tara. To be fair, none of them knew her from Adam and she’d just admitted that the dog at her side was basically a weapon. This was something that Rick hadn’t seemed to pick up on and Daryl hadn’t felt the need to disclose to him. Kit was grateful and she was ready to prove to Tara that the dog was safe. That she was safe.

She had known, of course, that Daryl would be dragged off to deal with things her ears weren’t trusted with yet. She would be babysat by whoever Rick thought was suitable, until he decided that she could be trusted. Daryl would not be one of those people. She wouldn’t be alone with him again until Rick made his decision.

Until then, she would have to endure this place, these new people, without the comfort of Daryl by her side. But thank god, they hadn’t thought to take the dog away from her. They must have thought she was just a pet. Kit almost laughed at the thought and reached down to fuss her ears, the way she seemed to like when Daryl did it sometimes.

____________

Tara liked the new girl. Not that she was a girl; definitely a woman, there was nothing childish or uncertain about her. She was very uncertain about Alexandria though. Hadn’t seemed impressed by anything so far and Tara began to wonder why she was even here. Surely Daryl had told her what to expect? Maybe that was all it was, maybe she’d just known in advance and that was why she wasn’t behaving like a kid in a candy store.

She seemed pretty unused to company. Very quiet. Tara hadn’t caught all of the background about how she and Daryl had met but it seemed like he’d been her first real contact with the human race for a while. Tara figured that accounted for it. Daryl was hardly Mr. Sociable himself. She seemed nice enough, even if she was brushing off a few cobwebs as she flexed her social skills again.

She was kind of pretty too. A good ten years Tara’s senior, she guessed but still a bit of a hottie in a very natural and entirely unaffected way. She had Tara a little flustered at first. As she introduced Kit to a few Alexandrians though, her confusion built. She was usually pretty good at reading people but she couldn’t figure Kit out at all. She hadn’t gotten a vibe from her herself but she hadn’t seemed remotely interested in George or Mike either, as she’d shaken their hands warily.

Not that she should be swooning over the first guys she met, even if she was straight, but these were definitely two of the best looking guys Alexandria had on offer and Kit hadn’t even looked twice. Mike was unattached and had instantly decided to put ‘the moves’ on the only available woman he’d met, in his own age bracket, for months. Kit didn’t even notice. She replied to his questions and comments politely and at face value. She wasn’t being rude, wasn’t even brushing him off. Just totally oblivious.

She was either very, very, out of practice. Or she was gay; a little flutter of excitement reared its head at that prospect but Tara wasn’t ready yet to make a move on anyone new and certainly not someone she’d only just met. Or possibly, she just genuinely wasn’t interested at all, end of story, nothing to see here folks.

As they made their way up the path towards the house, Tara decided she was over thinking things. The poor woman had a lot to get her head around and they all needed to get to know each other better. Things would settle down once she felt comfortable. They’d find out more about her. Things would be clearer then.

She spied Carl heading over from Rick’s place, walking Judith by his side, as they made their smiling, tottering way, over to Auntie Tara.

“Hey there Judy.” She smiled at the little girl. “Look at you… walkin’ like a boss!” She swept down and bundled the toddler up into her arms with a peel of laughter from them both.

“Who’s your new friend?” Carl asked. Straight to the point as usual.

“This is Kit. She found Daryl after he and David got over-run. David’s gone.” She looked at Judith sadly, remembering the last time she’d seen the young man on the day he and Daryl set out. “Daryl got hurt, rescuing some Hilltop girls and Kit patched him up and brought him home to us.” A rather simplified version but she wanted to get to the headline. That was all Carl would care about. “So she’s a friend and we like her.”

Carl nodded, taking in the salient points. “OK” he said, accepting Tara’s judgment and turning with them towards the house. “Is Daryl OK now?” he asked them both with a note of concern.

“Yes, he’s fine. It was just a few bumps and bruises, a little cut, nothing serious. He was more help to me than I was to him, truth be told.” Kit replied.

That was more, in one go, than Tara had heard her say during the whole tour. Well, at least she seemed to like Carl. That was nice for the kid. Tara knew it had to be hard meeting new people, what with his eye and all. Suddenly realising that she hadn’t introduced Carl to Kit, she opened the door for them with one hand and said, “Oh sorry, Kit this is…”

“Carl and Judith. Rick’s kids.” Kit finished for her. “Daryl told me a lot about you.” She explained, smiling at the teenager.

“All bad I hope.” Carl laughed.


	29. Chapter 29

Kit let Carl go in the house first, indicated Tara should follow and then walked the dog in slowly by her side, with her hand on her neck for comfort. She wasn’t used to going into buildings she wasn’t expected to ‘clear’. Tara looked a little nervously at the dog and the woman, as she pulled Judith a little closer to her body.

Carl looked at the dog and seemed to understand, without being told. “There’s no one home.” He said, with no visible concern. “You can let her check the house if that would settle her down.”

Kit smiled at the boy. “Go.” She whispered and the dog padded off at a brisk trot, to check the place out.

Kit liked the kids. Judith was a cutie but not much of a walker for her age and she still only had a few words down. She seemed bright enough. Kit figured, from what Daryl had told her about their journey here from the prison, that it had been something of a godsend to have a quiet baby. She’d catch up probably, now she had somewhere safe to do so. You couldn’t judge her development against old-world benchmarks anyway. It wasn’t like she had any opportunities to hang out with other kids her age and socialise with anyone but a huge extended family of adults, who'd probably spent much of her life trying to 'shush' her.

Carl had had one of the toughest adolescences Kit had ever come across, of course but he seemed to have it together. He was tough but fair minded and he had a natural kindness at his core. He’d had the kind of shitty start in life that she and Daryl had had in the old world but he wouldn’t be alone in that now and at least he had a real family to support and look out for him. He’d be fine.

As Tara made a start on dinner, Kit sat happily enough with Carl in the adjoining lounge. The dog had returned from her foray, more settled now she’d had a good look around. As she’d returned, Tara had stiffened and looked to Judith protectively but Kit had gotten to her first.

The boy noted the dog’s return and watched her with interest from his seat but he’d let Kit take the lead. Let her pick his sister up off the floor between them and bounce her on her knee. He’d remained relaxed as Kit had called the dog over and introduced her to the little girl, letting her sniff her pudgy little hand. “Friend.” She’d said. The dog had licked the offered hand, making Judith giggle and hug the animal’s muzzle as she nuzzled the girl’s cheek.

She’d introduced Carl too. Indicated that he should offer his hand. “Friend.” She repeated.

Tara had come over tentatively. Kit nodded for her to offer her hand and she did but she was nervous. The dog accepted her as a friend too but Kit could tell from her body language that she was happier with the kids than this other woman. It relaxed Tara a little that she’d been accepted but she happily retreated back to the kitchen.

After Kit had repeated the brief overview of her meeting with Daryl and the past few days together, she told them both a little of their previous background. They didn’t need to know some details. No one needed to know about the lake but Carl had only met Daryl a few short weeks after she’d seen him last. She wanted him to know that they knew the same man.

With minimal prompting, Carl had filled in some interesting gaps in Daryl’s narrative of their history together. She’d known about ‘Li’l ass kicker’ of course but she hadn’t realised that had literally been Judith’s actual name for her first couple of days of life. Hadn’t realised that Rick had basically gone off his rocker in grief for a while and Carl had been left rudderless, as well as motherless, with a new sister. But he hadn’t been alone. His family had rallied around.

The members who were no longer around had supported the boy in his own grief and cared for the baby as best they could. Maggie and Daryl had gone on an emergency run for baby supplies and from Carl’s description, Daryl had taken charge of his sister and raised all of their spirits on their return. It didn’t surprise Kit to hear it but her heart ached for what the boy had endured and melted for the man she recognised from his description. 

Tara had obviously never heard the full story herself. Probably just caught the fast and dirty headlines: ‘Boy forced to euthanize his own mother shocker.’ She’d lost interest in dinner and listened open mouthed as Carl continued with little vignettes of his remembrances of prison life.

Searching ‘the tombs’ for T-Dog and Carol, Daryl had shared the story of his own mom’s death, basically offered an ear if he needed one. Carl hadn’t shared the details of Daryl’s story. Kit knew them already but he wasn’t to know that and the look of curiosity on Tara’s face showed that it wasn’t one that Daryl had shared with ALL his family. Carl went on, talking about when they’d found Carol and everything seemed like it was almost good for five minutes before the Governor made his presence felt.

After the Governor’s attempt on the prison he recalled his dad withdrawing from leadership. The council had made decisions, he and Rick had tended the gardens and everyone had allowed the kids to pretend it was safe inside the gates. Everyone but Carol. She’d been right, of course, it was why no one in Alexandria should be allowed to remain complaisant. It was safer here but never ‘safe’.

Kit REALLY liked Carl. He might just have been a kid but he’d been paying attention. All the way along. The lessons he’d learned, through his dad and his family’s collective mistakes and experiences would make him one hell of a strategist one day, she thought.

His experiences on the road, after the prison fell, had been hard to hear. Especially the part where they’d been jumped in the night by a bunch of, truly evil sounding, bastards. Daryl had bargained for their lives and taken a beating. He and Michonne had tried to fight but Rick had torn out a guy’s windpipe and turned the corner for them all. Carl had watched as his dad gutted his would-be rapist. The boy hadn’t spelled it out but both women had understood what had been at stake.

Tara looked like she was about to throw up or have a nervous breakdown or both. Kit was just in awe of what they’d endured and survived together. What a true family they were; forged in fire and blood and battle.

Kit understood why Daryl had neglected to give her the name of Terminus. It had to be the same place. Carl only remembered one name: Gareth. Kit remembered him, if it was the same man and his mother, Mary. Nice people. Weak people, she’d thought. It sounded like they’d been strong enough to survive, just not strong enough to hang on to their minds while they did so. She was sorry the people she’d known had suffered. She was glad, knowing what they’d become, that they hadn’t survived this ‘family’.

Hearing all this and now that Tara could share the narrative, hearing about their journey from Terminus to Alexandria, Kit really, finally, understood the bond. These people would never have met, never known each other existed, in the old world. They had nothing in common. But they were truly family, a unit, in a way no blood family ever could be. They needed each other and supported each other through the rough and the smooth. She hoped she would be able to fit in here. She could have competed with Merle, she couldn’t compete with THIS.

____________

Carl didn’t really know why he’d talked so openly with Kit. He hadn’t intended to. His dad had asked him to take Judith over to Tara’s when he saw them get back from their tour. He’d told Carl to check her out, see what he thought of her. He hadn’t spelled it out but Carl knew he’d want a report. He’d want Carl’s opinion on this woman.

Carl’s opinion was that she was quiet and capable, that her dog was a dangerous weapon but she could be trusted with it. He felt safe with her. He found her unfamiliar accent, warm and earthy. She’d kept him grounded while she listened, understood, made him feel comfortable enough to spill his guts and he felt better for it. His opinion was that he liked her a lot and his dad damn well better let her stay if she wanted to and talk her into it if she didn’t.

He’d had the same feeling about Michonne. Anyone that badass, that wanted to be your friend, was a valuable asset and probably a good bet. He didn’t know how Daryl had convinced her to come here, she obviously didn’t need them for anything but he hoped they could all convince her to stay.

He’d just got through explaining what a dick he’d made of himself, when he’d tried to kill Negan on his own. How he’d realised, when he’d seen Daryl there, what a horrendous mistake he’d made. That he wasn’t just taking his own life in his hands but in doing so and then epically failing in his quest, he’d compromised his friend.

Negan hadn’t realised what a prize pawn he’d had in his little ‘cat and mouse torture game’ with Daryl, thank god. Negan hadn’t understood the relationships in the group. Had credited Daryl only as a badass, capable of withstanding whatever they threw at him physically, for his own pride. Not imagining that Daryl’s pride would have counted for nothing the second one of his family were threatened. But Carl’s stupidity had led to Negan coming back here. Had led straight to their front door. To Judith. To an escalation of violence. To two more Alexandrians dead in the street and Eugene being taken.

Kit had nodded, understood the burden of his guilt for that. Tara had made soothing noises, tried to tell him it was OK, not his fault, he shouldn’t blame himself. All the usual stuff. Kit had just accepted that that was how he felt about it. Shit happens, it’s normal to feel guilty about your part, normal to take responsibility for your mistakes. In this world bad shit is going to happen. People are going to die. Sometimes as a direct result of a dumb decision you made. Make it a lesson. Learn from it. Don’t let it happen again. Do better next time.

He’d just decided that she was probably his favourite new person since Jesus, when the dog scrambled for the door suddenly, freaking Tara out completely.

It was just Daryl and Michonne. For a second Kit had seemed concerned but she heard his boots on the deck outside and seemed to know his step as well as Carl did. Daryl opened the door and the dog pawed his leg affectionately. This WAS surprising to Carl.

He hadn’t seen the dog actually be ‘doggish’ at all so far. She’d seemed like an extension of Kit. Like an extra sense, external to her human body. The dog had been all business since he’d met her. The little ‘friend’ ritual had been almost ceremonial. Her nuzzling of Judith, the only sign of any ‘doggish’ affection or personality he’d seen.

Yet she reacted to Daryl like a pet would react to its owner. Showing affection and expecting it in return. She hadn’t even been like this with Kit, that he’d seen. Kit was obviously very much in control of the dog and Carl had known that they were all quite safe with the animal as long as Kit was safe but she’d never been like this with her.

“Hey there.” Daryl greeted the dog, accepting her welcome and scruffing her ears. She looked at Michonne, as she stood stock still behind him but rather than growl at her or look to Kit for guidance, she looked up at Daryl.

He reached behind and took Michonne’s hand, offering it to the dog to smell. “This here’s Michonne.” He said, “She’s a friend.” He stroked the dog’s ears and let go of Michonne. “Most the time anyway.” He grumbled under his breath as they both moved into the house, as the dog let them pass.

Carl had had a moment, during the little hand ceremony at the door, to really take in the scene. He was beginning to get an inkling of how Daryl had persuaded Kit to come here now. She looked at Daryl, just the way Michonne looked at his dad. Just the way Maggie used to look at Glenn. Kit wasn’t here for safety or security or big strong walls. Kit wasn’t here for anything at all but Daryl.

She’d caught herself and rearranged her face again, as quick as she could but Carl had caught it and he thought maybe Tara had too. Michonne would figure it out pretty quickly, if she hadn’t already, she always knew everything before anyone else. He wondered though, looking at the only man alive he’d been with and known from the beginning, if Daryl knew.

Carl had never seen Daryl with anyone before. The whole time he’d known the man, he’d been single and seemed to like it that way. He’d thought, for a while at the prison, that maybe Carol liked him like that but he guessed he’d been wrong. It’d been a long time ago now and Carol was probably Daryl’s best friend in the group but she was definitely family to him, not a girlfriend. She’d had other boyfriends since. Daryl had remained ‘the untouched, mystical island, of Daryl’.   

Sometimes he’d overheard people speculating about the gruff hunter in their midst, appraising his ‘attributes’. There’d been a couple of women from the Woodberry group and one of the guys, who’d tried to catch his eye back then too. As far as Carl could tell, nothing had ever come of any of it. Daryl just didn’t seem interested, or even to notice. He didn’t even like it when people made a fuss of him for doing things for the community. He didn’t like fuss, period.

Carl wasn’t sure if any of the Alexandrians had harboured interest in Daryl or not. He figured that by the time they’d made it here, he’d probably seemed a bit too feral for these people’s tastes. Looking at him now, Carl couldn’t imagine him with a nice, straight-laced, white-bread, middle-American woman. He’d never really thought about it before. Never tried to picture Daryl’s ‘ideal mate’. He didn’t have to now. One hooded glance from the door. One restrained greeting and Carl was pretty certain that Daryl’s ideal woman was basically Kit.


	30. Chapter 30

Tara was absolutely beside herself. She couldn’t stop grinning. They were so cute, the two of them. What a pair.

She’d never seen Daryl like this. Flustered and boyish in his embarrassment. Trying so hard not to give himself away, not to let them see what an affect Kit was having on him. He was being far more of a teenager than Carl was right now. Focussing on his boots and mumbling contributions to the conversation, when called upon to do so. But when he thought no one was looking; casting furtive, concerned glances her way.

Kit was just the same. She’d been a little nervous at first but essentially all, cold, calm, composure with everyone else today. With Daryl, shy glances and warm little smiles when she just couldn’t hold them in anymore.

The actual teenager in the room was, conversely, playing the role of the wise old owl. He’d seen what Tara had seen the second Daryl entered the room. Two hours they’d been apart and the second she saw him again her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She hadn’t seen Daryl’s face but from his vantage point, Carl had and the look he furtively shot at Tara and Michonne, confirmed that this little love-fest was mutual.

Tara knew she had the worst poker face in the world and Michonne had had to kick her under the table a few times in the past half hour, as they’d all sat down to share dinner. They passed Judith from knee to knee, between the family members, as they each cajoled her to have a little of what was on their plates. Luckily Tara had made enough to feed a small army, so there had been plenty to go around. There’d even be plenty for Michonne to take some home for Rick too.

They’d all polished off their portions pretty quickly and Daryl and Carl had gone for seconds. She was pretty pleased with herself. She’d never been much of a cook before but she’d started to like it, now they had some fresh produce of their own to work with.

Kit was interested in the garden. She’d been scavenging for three years now and the novelty of fresh produce was the main thing that finally prized her from of her embarrassed little shell, after Daryl’s arrival and out into the conversation. They muddled along, chit chatting for a while but there was definitely a huge elephant in the room.

Tara felt bad but she’d been specifically told not to leave Kit’s side, other than while she was in the bathroom or in bed. Michonne knew that those had been Tara’s orders and no doubt so did Carl, who’d more than likely been sent over here by his dad. Daryl didn’t know but he was probably beginning to suspect and obviously wasn’t happy that he wasn’t going to get any chance of privacy with Kit.

Tara could see he had something on his mind, something he was desperate to say. She’d never seen him so desperate to communicate before but she knew that was what it was. Her heart went out to him but she wasn’t going to disobey Rick’s orders. Not for anything.

______________

Her heart ached and panic reared its ugly head again a little, as Michonne and Carl took their leave and left to put Judith to bed. It was clear that Daryl had finally realised that Tara still wasn’t going to leave them alone. She could see his frustration building, from the moment he arrived, throughout the meal and now; seemingly having a chance to talk to her but knowing that Tara was just a few metres away and that no conversation between them could be private.

“How you doin’?” He asked, finally. She knew what he meant. How was she really doing? Would she be OK with this situation, with these people, his family, pulling the strings for a couple of days? Did she like the place at all? Could she stomach the people? Would she stay? Give it a chance?

“Hanging in there.” She responded. He’d said it would be ‘alright’, he’d promised, she’d hang on in a little longer. She could do that. It would be easier if she knew what, if anything, she was hanging in for. Would it be worth it? Did they have the same definition in mind of what ‘alright’ meant? She wasn’t even sure she knew what her own definition would be.

“I’m sorry,” he began, shifting a little closer in his seat, lowering his voice. He reached for her hand and Kit got the impression that he had more to say but Tara had caught the movement and looked over briefly. Daryl had frustratedly abandoned whatever he’d originally planned to say, along with the attempt on her hand. “Didn’t realise it’d be like this.” He went on, fidgeting. “Don’t know what I expected but Rick likes you anyway….even if he is bein’ a hard ass about it. They’re gonna want you to stay Kit.”

Kit wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her, or himself, or if he was just stating the obvious because he’d been derailed from whatever he’d planned to say. She wondered what he’d been trying to apologise for.

“Yeah well, we’ll see.” she answered, in a non-committal fashion.

She didn’t want Tara telling Rick that she was too confident of her chances. She was confident. She’d seen quite clearly that all of Daryl’s family were smart enough to see her value to their group. She’d also seen enough to know that Rick might make Daryl jump a couple of hoops for it but he wasn’t going to refuse this man anything that he really, really wanted. If Daryl asked for her to be accepted, she would be. She knew he’d asked. She just still wasn’t quite positive that she knew why, or for what purpose.

She fought panic as she realised that Daryl had given up on any chance of a real conversation with her. He was working himself up to leaving.

“You must be beat.” He said. “Bin a long day for us.” He smiled, a little half smile. “Sun’s set, we’d a bin in bed by now, back at the house.”

That got a little flurry of interest from the kitchen. No doubt Tara was feverishly trying to imagine the domestic arrangements she and Daryl had shared before they’d got here. Kit coloured slightly at the reminder of their big bed and looked up a little sadly, as he realised what he’d said too. They caught each other’s eye briefly and looked away. They wouldn’t be curling up to sleep in each other’s arms tonight.

They saw him off at the door, her and the dog. Tara stood a little way back to say her goodnight but she was still there. Still hovering around. They didn’t touch. Daryl crouched down by the dog and scruffed her ears, letting her lick his face as he looked up at her mistress with a soft smile curling his lip. “I’ll see you ladies tomorrow.” He rasped and nodded his goodnight, turning and making his way over to his own house.

____________

“So you like her?” Rick summarised between mouthfuls of pasta.

“Sure.” Carl responded. “But that’s not why you should let her stay.”

“What did I miss?” Michonne asked, re-entering the kitchen, having put Judith down to sleep.

“Carl likes Kit.” Rick said, shovelling another mouthful in. “And Tara’s getting good in the kitchen.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She scolded. “You’re a terrible example to Carl.” They all laughed.

“You like her too?” He asked.

“Sure, what’s not to like.” She answered, hugging Carl to her and looking to him for confirmation. “She’s got more balls than anyone here had when we turned up but she doesn’t seem like she ‘learned on the job’, like the rest of us, you know. She’s a survivor from way back.”

“Hah, so no short-termer, ‘crazy’ PTSD, shit to look forward to you think?”

“No.” Michonne picked a pasta shell from Rick’s plate. “She’s got her head on straight. A little nervy with you at the start but you WERE being kind of an asshole.” She emphasised. “By the time I saw her at Tara’s she seemed to have relaxed as far as that went.” She smiled knowingly at Carl. “She was on edge for a whole different reason then.”

Rick caught the smile that passed between them. “On edge how?” He looked at his son. He’d asked Carl to scope her out, not freak her out. Had he pushed her buttons somehow? Had Tara?

“Not over me, that’s for sure.” Carl responded quickly. “I was super nice to her and she seemed happy to talk to me. She already knew my name and so much about where we’ve been and what we’ve done.” Carl stopped as his dad’s scowl deepened slightly. “I … she was so understanding and already knew so much anyway. I probably talked more than you’d like.” He admitted. “I filled in some blanks probably but you weren’t there.” He defended himself. “She’s nice dad. She wasn’t trying to get ‘information’, she was just curious about me, about all of us.”

Michonne had been holding her arm across the boy’s shoulders throughout. She hadn’t realised how much he’d shared with Kit but she didn’t blame him. She’d had that same feeling about the other woman. There was no ‘side’ to her. No angle.

“It’s OK Carl.” She soothed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She did just want to know you, understand you and us better. She was just curious. Your dad knows that.” She looked over at Rick. A hard look. “He knows why too, I bet. Knows why she wants to like us.”

“You saw it too?” The boy asked his dad enthusiastically.

Rick was a little taken aback but he couldn’t pretend not to know what they meant. “Daryl?” He asked.

Carl beamed “She’s crazy about him. You could’ve seen it with your eyes closed when he turned up with Michonne at Tara’s.” 

Michonne nodded at Rick. “It’s true.” She confirmed. “And it goes both ways. Nervous as a nun in a cathouse, all afternoon, ‘til we got to Tara’s.” She smiled widely at them both. “And then he was like a little kid on Christmas eve, being told he can’t have his presents.”

Rick smiled back. “That bad?” He shook his head. “I had an inkling.” He confirmed.

“Downright cruel, telling Tara not to leave her side, if you ask me.” Michonne teased. “If looks could kill, Tara would be six foot under by now.”

Rick laughed. “Well, I had to be sure.” Looking up, he realised he needed to clarify. “On both counts, I wanted to be sure she was good people, which apparently she is.” He nodded to them each in turn. “And I wanted to know how much of a problem it would be if we don’t want her.”

Michonne & Carl both shifted uncomfortably at his words. “It’d be a problem Rick.” Michonne warned.

“A really big one.” Carl confirmed.

“Hmmm, I guessed it would be.” Rick mused, chewing on the last mouthful of pasta. “It’s a good job we like her then huh.” He smiled at them both and they all laughed lightly.   

Carl excused himself and went upstairs. Before they’d left the house, Kit had pressed a stack of comics into his hands. She’d had them stashed in her backpack and had brought them just for him. Daryl had told her he liked them and she’d known just the house in Garvey to find a suitable gift for him.

As Rick washed up his plate, Michonne snaked her arms around his torso and kissed him behind the ear. “That was a pretty mean thing to do to your ‘brother’.” She said.

“Well, if he ever just came out and said what he wanted. What he was feeling.” Rick defended.

“Yeah but you know. You always KNOW. Daryl doesn’t need words.” She teased. “A deaf, dumb and blind man could have FELT the electricity in that room.”

“Good.” He smiled, still unrepentant. “I’m glad he’s found someone. She seems worthy of him. Just wished he’d come out and said, you know?”

Michonne dropped her arms and stepped to the side to look in his face. “Oh.” She whispered. “You didn’t realise. I see now.”

“Realise what?”

“He wasn’t holding back. He hasn’t done anything about it yet.” She answered authoritatively. “He wants to. Really, really wants to. Don’t know what’s been stopping him, if they had four days together before they came here but he hasn’t. They’ve got things going on… but… it’s unresolved. It wasn’t just electricity in that room, it was tension. And you set it up so they couldn’t even get five minutes of peace to talk. You didn’t realise, I see that. But this is a dangerous game Rick. There’s nothing keeping her here but the way she feels about Daryl. You play ‘cat and mouse’ too long, maybe she decides Daryl should have put a stop to it, if he really wanted her and she just gets up and goes.”

\-----------

Daryl hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d always been light on his feet and deliberately so at night, creeping up to a house with a, hopefully sleeping, toddler inside. His step had slowed and quietened to utter silence as he’d heard the exchange between Rick and Carl on his approach to the door. As Michonne had joined the conversation, he’d made his way around to the open kitchen window and there he sat now.

He knew Michonne’s words were true. She might decide, any second, that she couldn’t hold on any longer and just go. She really didn’t need this place or him. He didn’t know if Michonne and Carl had read her right. He hoped and prayed so but he daren’t assume she felt anything more for him than the attachment of friendship and familiarity. Either way, he needed to keep her here, keep her happy long enough to grow a pair and clear the air with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooo dramas!  
> I had trouble splitting this section up, so this is quite a long chapter and the next one will be very short, as a result.  
> Hope you enjoy - thanks for reading ;)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so not as short as I thought it would be but still oneof the shorter chapters I'm afraid and the next one will be too. They should get meatier after that though.  
> Thanks for reading.

“Denise had a real soft spot for him.” Tara finished.

Kit had had the outline of Denise and Tara as a couple and Denise’s death, of course but it was different hearing about the woman from her partner. Kit knew she would have liked Denise. She felt like they had a lot in common.

Tara couldn’t know, as she told Kit about Denise’s tough childhood and her drive to escape her past and make something better of herself, that she was sketching Kit’s own background. She did know that Denise’s tough childhood had been similar to Daryl’s though. She hadn’t spelled out who ‘he’ was but Kit understood and she understood why the other woman had brought the conversation back to Daryl. She really hadn’t hidden her feelings very well this afternoon. His arrival with Michonne had caught her completely off-guard, surrounded by so many new people, she’d obviously given them all a good idea why she was really considering Alexandrian citizenship.

“Thought she had some kind of weird crush on him, or something, at first. She used to get all flustered when he was around.” She went on. “But it wasn’t that…. He reminded her of her brother.” Tara shook her head sadly. “She missed him so much, even before the end of the world. They were twins but she had a drive to escape the cycle of their parents’ crappy world…. Dennis was just caught in it…. Angry at life for the shitty hand he’d been dealt but unable to get past that long enough to make a plan and escape it, like she did.”

Kit nodded. That sounded like the Daryl she’d met three years ago. Maybe not so much angry, as resigned. Definitely trapped in a destructive family cycle though. Unable to escape the crushing gravitational pull of the ‘Merle effect’.

“He doesn’t seem so angry to me?” Kit replied. “Seems like he’s been through the wars in the last couple of years. You all do. But not angry.”

“No.” Tara agreed. “Not so much anymore. He seemed lighter this afternoon.” She smiled and kit realised that she’d basically just confirmed that he’d been on her mind, by not having to ask who Tara had meant. “That little break in Garvey seems to have done him good.” Tara continued, with a little smile. “He seems to have some hope about him now.”

Kit nodded curtly and yawned, partially for effect and partially because she was genuinely tired. She couldn’t cope with a grilling about her feelings right now, she didn’t know what she was feeling herself and certainly wasn’t ready to put them into words for a stranger. Daryl had been right. They would have been in bed by now and that had been half an hour ago.

She was still a little freaked out to be wandering around, room to brightly lit room, being shown around the house to get her bearings. It was a normal looking suburban house, at night, with all the lights on. The dog kept looking at her like this was crazy-town too. A totally alien concept to both woman and dog. It was definitely time for some privacy in a darkened room, on both counts.

“Let’s get you settled in your room.” Tara said leaping to her feet, after briefly settling back onto the sofa after the tour. “You must need some rest. It’s been a busy day, getting here and meeting a bunch of new faces.”

Kit couldn’t argue with that. The whole afternoon had been draining. She hadn’t met anyone she actively disliked yet but just being in a social situation was completely against the norm for her and trying to dredge up her old coping mechanisms had been hard work.

Kit grabbed her backpack and followed Tara, indicating that the dog should come too. The room was on the ground floor, with its own door out to the patio, at the rear of the house and the downstairs shower room was right next door. The room had been set up as a study but the sofa was, in fact, a sofa-bed and Tara made it up for her, while Kit took a shower next door.

It was a luxury to have as much hot running water as she could ever want but Kit wasn’t as unused to showering as most new arrivals in Alexandria and she’d become adept at the art of the quick shower, to the point of it being ingrained. She enjoyed the powerful jet and indulged with a more thorough wash, of both her hair and body, than she’d have had in one of her own showers but it was still a pretty quick one by any standards. She DID enjoy the hairdryer though.

“The others will be home later.” Tara said, as she took her leave at the door. “They’re still on shift but they know you’ll be here so I’m sure they’ll try to be quiet.” She gave the dog a nervous look.

“Don’t worry, she’ll stay in here with me.” Kit promised. “I’ll keep the door closed and she won’t bark. She might whine a little if I’m asleep and can’t reassure her but she won’t bark.”

Tara nodded. “Well, just get up whenever you feel like it and we’ll have breakfast here and decide what you want to do for the day together OK? Everyone else will probably sleep ‘til noon, so there’s no hurry. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Kit nodded. She knew Tara wouldn’t get a lot of sleep tonight. Rick wasn’t worried enough about her to post a twenty-four hour guard but she’d obviously been asked not to let Kit far out of her sight. She knew, without checking, that the patio door would be locked. She’d have to navigate right through the house to the front door to get out. Whenever Kit surfaced in the morning, she’d more than likely find a bleary-eyed Tara hurrying down the stairs to make sure she didn’t go anywhere without her shadow.

Kit felt bad for her. “That’s fine Tara, thanks. I’ll see you in the morning then, sleep well.”

Looking out across the darkened garden to the monolithic wall that allowed this fantasy-land to exist, Kit released a shuddering breath. This had been the most stressful day she could remember for months. Now it was done, the plaster ripped off, she felt like she could cope with the new faces though. She hoped she’d buried her anxiety well enough to come over as a normal enough person to them at any rate.

She felt like she could hang on a little longer, as she’d said she would earlier but now she was alone, that last conversation with Daryl worried her again. What had he wanted to apologise for? She’d made a pretty poor job of hiding her feelings for him, if Tara felt comfortable enough to practically tease her about it the second he was gone.

She thought back to last night and their drunken kiss. Maybe it hadn’t been as mutual as she’d thought. She had meant it but perhaps it was just pity and drunkenness on his part. Had he realised that he’d brought her here under false pretences? It was entirely possible that he’d finally realised how she felt about him and was trying to extricate himself from the mess, without upsetting her enough to make her run off. She knew that however else he might or might not feel about her, he certainly considered her a friend and didn’t want her back out there on her own. He wanted her in his life. But as what?

Exasperated at herself for starting down this circuitous path again, with no way of knowing the answer to any of these questions. She figured she might as well spend the next few hours worrying about it in a comfortable bed, rather than standing here looking out at a pitch black night. Turning, she laughed to find that the dog had already claimed the foot of the bed.

“Hmmm,” Kit mumbled. “Kind of a bad president to set but any port in a storm. I suppose you’ll have to do as a bed-mate.” She said, climbing under the covers and returning the dog’s sad little questioning look as she switched off the light. She felt the emptiness of the space at her side instantly, missing the regular thrum of a strong heartbeat and calming tide of breathing from the man who should be there. A comforting presence at her side. A warm body pressed against her own. She knew, full well, walls or no walls, it would be a bitch to get to sleep tonight.


	32. Chapter 32

Rick was up early and out of the house, as the rest of its occupants were still barely stirring. He’d been thrown by Michonne’s revelation, about Kit and Daryl’s relationship, the night before. He’d honestly assumed that if there was more to it than Daryl was letting on, then the truth of the matter was that they were an item and had just wanted to keep that to themselves for now. He’d genuinely only wanted to find out if that were the case, with his little experiment. He’d figured that if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter and if it was, the worst that would happen would be he’d get a rise out of Daryl. He hadn’t wanted to seriously damage Daryl’s chances with the woman.

Last night he’d shrugged it off with Michonne, told her that it was Daryl’s business if he couldn’t tell the woman how he felt, while it was clear to see for everyone around them with eyes in their heads. But he’d struggled to sleep. It had niggled and gnawed at his unconscious mind and kept him restless.

Daryl was his staunchest supporter and his right-hand-man. He’d been there for him almost from the beginning and it had taken Rick barely a week to realise the other man’s sterling qualities, both as a survivor and as a human being. Where his lifelong friend had failed him and lost his way to selfishness, brutality and eventually madness, in frighteningly short order; Daryl had stepped up and showed himself to be an unlikely but genuinely decent and honourable guy. He could always be counted on to back you up and would never let you down if he could help it.

He could be impetuous and he was too often driven by his emotions but he was honest and he was brave and as hard as fucking coffin nails when you really needed a badass on your side. Daryl Dixon was the best friend, the best ‘brother’ that Rick could ever have hoped for. He didn’t deserve to be torpedoed like this. To have the man he had followed, despite being far better equipped to survive this new world on his own than with a bunch of ‘know nothing city slickers’, jeopardise his chance of happiness.

Daryl had never asked for anything, from anybody, Rick realised in the early hours of the morning. He never expected recognition, or friendship, or loyalty. He’d never asked for the family that had wormed its way into his heart, or the love that came with it. He’d earned it all but had never expected any of it as his due. Every time someone showed him an ounce of respect, kindness, consideration, or compassion, Daryl’s first and most obvious reaction was surprise. To be treated well was new to him since the world went to shit. To be respected, listened to, looked up to. It was all foreign to him. He’d obviously spent much of his life, up to this point, blending into the background, and not only in the woods.

Rick had never considered what Daryl’s love-life had consisted of before the world went to shit. He’d vaguely wondered why the man didn’t just take one of the opportunities, that had occasionally presented themselves, along their journey together. He’d been considered something of a ‘catch’ at the prison, could have had any one of the handful of single strays and Mayberry women that watched him with interest wherever he went. Even Carol had flirted to start with. It had turned to playful banter quickly but she hadn’t meant it that way to start with. Rick knew that. He doubted Daryl did.

He’d never really put much thought to it but had just assumed that Daryl had other priorities for now. He seemed pretty self-contained, right from the start. Rick figured he was just more of a ‘man’s man’ and as there weren’t any easy options for uncomplicated female company, he just wasn’t interested at all in something more serious. It occurred to him now that he really didn’t know anything about Daryl’s life before the turn. The occasional nugget, gleaned second-hand and covering random snatches of information, he’d shared with one or other of them over the years but really, nothing more.

Rick had berated himself in the early hours, during another wakeful stint of self-analysis, for not recognising Daryl’s need. This woman, Kit, he actually needed her. He’d found her again after three years and his first thought was to bring her home, to meet his family. He hadn’t brought her because she needed safety or security, he hadn’t brought her because Alexandria needed another capable pair of hands. He’d brought her because he needed her and he wanted his family to help him convince her to stay. He wanted help because he wasn’t confident he could do it on his own merit. He wasn’t confident that she would want to stay JUST for him.

And Rick, his friend, his ‘brother’, had harmed his chances. Hurt, where he should have helped. Seen only the strong, rough, survivor; where he should have recognised the vulnerable, sensitive, uncertain, self-depreciating soul. He had to make amends. He had to give Daryl his best chance. If Daryl wanted Kit, Rick wanted to get her for him, or at least give Daryl his best shot at getting her for himself.  

He made his way to the quarantine house at the edge of town. Maggie might still be asleep but he knew Carol would be up by now. He needed both women to understand and get on board. Other than Carl, the three of them were the longest surviving members of the ‘core’ family group. To be fair, Carol was his longest serving friend of all, as she’d been the first to spot him for the diamond-in-the-rough that he was. Rick especially needed her on side.

He found her sitting on the front steps of the house, coffee in hand, lost in thought staring at the walls. Obviously still unaffected by the bug that had brought them here three days ago, in a desperate rush to save the most vulnerable members of the Hilltop community, from the possibility of infection.

“Penny for your thoughts.” He said, approaching from the street.

She whipped around suddenly. He was glad she hadn’t heard him coming. She was relaxing a little these days, getting back a little of the woman she’d lost somewhere along the way. He wouldn’t wish her back to the frightened little mouse he’d met at the quarry, the devastated, pathetic creature she’d been at the farm. He did wish her, what she wished for herself; a measure of peace.

To catch the woman, who had single-handedly blown up Terminus and had been part of a two-woman death-squad for a whole platoon of outpost Saviours, off guard – well, that was some achievement. He hoped this relaxation of her usual ‘high-alert’ was an indication that such a thing as peace was finally possible for her. That those sharp eyes and the sharp mind behind them, were still capable of softening and calming in the relatively safe surroundings of communities of mostly good people, friends and family. 

“Not worth the copper.” She replied, with a perfunctory smile. “You’re here early?”

“Wanted to be the one to tell you. It’s been long enough. The quarantine’s lifted. You can mix in town if you want to.” He stepped up close to the steps, demonstrating that he had no fear of contagion.

Carol nodded. “Coffee?”

_______________

Maggie seemed nice. Tough, driven and a little sad, understandably so but nice. Kit still wasn’t sure about Carol. She knew far more about both of these women than either of them probably suspected but Carol was still something of a mystery. Kit got the feeling she was playing a part, which she couldn’t exactly knock her for, Kit had done that most of her life. Daryl had told her about the ‘act’ Carol put on for new people though, so it was difficult for Kit to calculate exactly what was real and what was not.

Rick had already gone by the time Tara came downstairs. Kit was sorry for that, she wished she’d made a little more noise as she’d fed the dog and let her out in the garden. She wished she’d rattled the pots a bit more while making her tea. Hopefully she wouldn’t get in too much trouble for leaving Kit conscious and unsupervised. He hadn’t seemed that upset. He’d seemed a lot more relaxed and friendly than yesterday in fact. Almost likeable. She’d tried to reconcile this Rick with the image of a man tearing out another man’s windpipe with his own teeth but just couldn’t quite get there.

Tara had come down to find Kit pouring tea for herself and the other two women. There’d been just enough in the pot for her too. Goodness knows why they’d had a teapot in the cupboards but they had. Kit had been overjoyed to find it. She didn’t mind sharing her little luxuries with Daryl’s family but a pot would definitely make it easier to stretch out what she had.

Maggie and Carol were going to work in the garden today and thought she might want to join them. They’d been cooped up in the quarantine house for two days and were desperate for some fresh air and new company apparently. That was the story anyway but Kit was pretty sure they’d decided to check her out for themselves. No doubt Rick felt a change of gaoler was in order, to keep her sweet.

She didn’t mind overly. They could watch her if they wanted, they wouldn’t find anything out that Tara hadn’t already guessed. Maybe she’d pick up a few nuggets herself. Kit had been desperate to ask after Daryl, to know where he was and when she might see him again. She daren’t ask though. They all knew, she guessed. If one knew, surely the others did by now too. She just couldn’t face having to talk about something so personal. Something she was still so unsure about herself.

In the meantime, gardening with ‘the girls’ might help her get a handle on her potential new home. It couldn’t hurt to have a couple more perspectives on Alexandria either. Neither Maggie or Carol had stayed, maybe they were exactly the right people to help her decide if she should.


	33. Chapter 33

Carol joined Tara and Maggie on the wall at the edge of the garden, pinching Judith’s cheek as she passed the girl, bouncing on Tara’s knee. They’d been working hard all morning and Kit had done her share alongside them. It hadn’t taken her five minutes to see a missed opportunity though. Carol had watched benignly as she worked up her nerve, to put forward her suggestion. The look of approval she’d given had been genuine.

They’d dispatched Enid and Carl to collect the raw materials straight away. Minding Judith, between them, while her brother was gone. The teenagers had been very happy to disappear off on a joint quest. They had so little chance to spend time together, just the two of them and it was cute to see how little their separation had affected their obvious affection for each other.

The three women watched the teenagers, with happy little smiles, each thinking of their own first loves, or great loves, or last loves. Kit was showing them how to cut and connect the soda bottles, one on top of another. Each was filled with soil, compost and the relevant seeds, which she had provided herself.

She’d said she hadn’t really known why she’d collected the seeds along her way but they hadn’t taken up much room, so she’d just kept on adding to it as she travelled. The tin she’d produced was the size of a reasonably epic hardback book but it had been brimming. She’d separated everything out into three piles. A gift for each of their communities. And then she’d taken Alexandria’s portion and showed Enid, Carl and Carol how to assemble their vertical, individual green house, gardens.

As the teenagers helped finish what they’d started for Alexandria’s garden, the three women looked on.

“Well?” Maggie finally asked Carol, having given her time to settle in her spot.

“It’ll work well I think.” Carol replied. “It’ll definitely save so much space for herbs and salad crops. Keep them off the ground and away from pests. Then, of course, we’ll have more room for the bigger, less suitable crops, on ground level. It’s good.”

“Yeah, a real game changer for us too I reckon. Kind of pissed at myself, that I didn’t think of it first myself.” Maggie said.

“Well, there was no shortage of space on your dad’s farm.” Carol replied, smiling at the thought of Hershal and finally feeling ready in herself, to think back to the farm and start to revisit those memories.

Maggie saw the little tinge of melancholy gather across Carol’s features and knew they must be a mirror of her own. She shook herself out of that. There was a place and a time for remembering the dead and there were other things to think about today. “That’s not what I meant though.” She clarified. “What do you think to Kit?”

Carol curled her lip in a feline smile. “Ah!” she said. Returning her gaze to the little group across the garden. Assessing.

“Well I like her.” Tara said.

“You like everybody.” Maggie joked.

“No I don’t.” Tara replied defensively. “Well, I guess mostly I do. I try to anyway. But if they’re not likeable I don’t.”

Maggie smiled. “I ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing.” She coo’ed, wrapping an arm around Tara and pulling her into a brief hug.

“I like her.” Carol announced. “I don’t get any bad vibes from her and she’s useful.”

“Pfft,” Tara exclaimed. “Calm down Carol, no need to go overboard.”

All three of them smiled.

“Haha, mercenary to the core.” Maggie laughed. “Well I guess that’s the way to look at it these days isn’t it.”

They all nodded a little in agreement.

“I do like her though.” Maggie continued. “She’s generous and warm. Just a little out of practice with people I reckon. She’ll fit in well.”

“If she wants to.” Carol added, with an air of caution. “Seems like she’s still not sure if she likes it here enough to stay.” 

“She’ll stay.” Tara replied, confidently. “We have something she wants.” She smiled knowingly.

“Mmmm,” Maggie mused. “Rick said Carl and Michonne reckon Daryl’s the only reason she’s here. You agree with that?”

“Oh yeah. One hundred and ten percent.” Tara replied. “She doesn’t need us, doesn’t want to live here. Only reason she’s here is ‘cos Daryl asked her to give us a shot.”

“And you think it’s like he said?” Maggie asked. “Mutual?”

“Hah,” Tara snorted. “Yeah, it’s mutual. I’ve never been scared of Daryl, never had any reason to be. I know his bark’s worse than his bite and he’d never lay a hand on me, or any of us.” Both Maggie and Carol gave her their full attention.

“But?” Carol asked warily.

“I swear to god Daryl could have cheerfully killed me last night, when I wouldn’t let them alone, if he could have done it without looking bad in front of her.” She smiled, they knew she didn’t mean it literally but they also saw the discomfort that signalled that it was exactly how she’d felt at the time.

“Interesting.” Carol mused, looking back at the woman, showing Enid some detail, while Carl knelt down petting and talking to her dog.

“Real interesting.” Maggie agreed. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen Daryl pay any woman any kind of special attention.” She added. “’cept us.” She clarified. “’cept family, of course.”

“Well I sure haven’t.” Tara confirmed. “You’ve known him longer though?”

Both Tara and Maggie looked to Carol. “No.” She confirmed. “Never that I saw. Had trouble enough getting out from under his brother’s shadow to find himself and make any kind of friends at the start, never mind a girlfriend.” She shook her head. “Didn’t seem like he’d ever been much of a ladies man. Didn’t seem like he’d know where to start. Or even cared to.” She laughed lightly at the very idea. “Rick said they knew each other before?” 

“Yeah, briefly though.” Tara supplied. “Only a few days, at some survivalists training camp thing, or something.” Both Maggie and Carol raised an eyebrow. “They were the trainers apparently.”

“Hah,” laughed Maggie. “Explains a lot.”

“Not really.” Tara replied. “Kit said it was Daryl’s first time as a teacher. She’d done it a few times but he was new to it. Was hired as a guide with local knowledge and expertise. His brother, Merle?” The other two nodded with varying levels of disgust. “He set it up with one of the organisers in a bar. Daryl got dragged along for the ride but Kit said he’d made an impression. Could have made a career out of it if he played his cards right. If the world hadn’t fallen apart.”

“I’m not sure the man I met three years ago would’ve been my first choice of tutor.” Maggie replied, looking dubious.

“No.” Carol confirmed. “But he had it in him. He taught us all how to survive in those first few months. Don’t you remember?”

Maggie looked thoughtful for a moment, she obviously hadn’t realised how much had rubbed off but Carol was right. At the farm she’d have needed a lighter to start a fire, she wouldn’t have known where to look for water beyond her dad’s land, she’d skinned and gutted animals but she’d never set a trap. Carol saw the realisation dawn that Daryl had taught them all, everything they needed to know, to survive alone if it came to it. He’d just done it by example, almost by osmosis, without them even realising.

Carol smiled. “Maybe it was just knocked sideways by grief.”

“I guess we all went through that at the start. It was a lot to take. Losing the world, the life you thought you’d have like that, all of a sudden.” Tara offered.

“Hmmm, I don’t think Daryl ever cared much for the old world but that man’s been in pain since I’ve known him. He covered it with bluster to start with, let loss after loss drag him further into it over time but it was there all along. I think he lost something more important than the world, right there at the start.”

All three women turned their attention back to the group across the garden. Startled to see Kit and the dog advancing towards them. “I think this one’s made a friend.” She said, pointing to the dog. “Seems to like everyone more than me these days.”

Maggie moved up to offer her a spot beside her and Kit accepted the offered bottle of water gratefully. The dog planted herself in front of them, watching the teenagers, seemingly completely uninterested in the women at her back. Apparently Kit wasn’t quite right, the dog’s favouritism seemed to be restricted to Carl and a certain hunter they knew, who was rather conspicuous by his continued absence today.

_______________

Carl had spied something interesting, as he’d petted the dog in the garden. As Kit went over to sit with the other women of his family, he’d worked quickly to complete his section of the ‘vertical garden’. He and Edith chatted, off and on but something kept catching his eye, now he’d noticed it.

In the end, he asked Edith if she could manage the rest on her own. He told her he had an errand to run and she nodded contentedly. She was really getting into this, which would bode well for Hilltop. Edith had really had to step up there, as Maggie’s pregnancy neared the final months.

Responsibility suited her and Maggie was right, Edith would be the future of Hilltop. As he looked at her now he was both proud and sad. Her life was at Hilltop and his was here. Pushing that thought to the back of his mind for now, he nodded back and made his way to the gate before anyone else asked where he was going.


	34. Chapter 34

He lost sight of her again. She’d moved into one of the blind spots in the garden that just couldn’t be seen from up here. She looked good anyway. Damn good. Not exactly happy. Still a little edgy to his eye but she seemed content enough when it was just the kids. She was teaching them how to make something out of a bunch of old soda bottles. Everyone seemed happy enough to let her teach them something. That was positive.

Maggie, Carol and Edith looked OK too and the fact that they were free to roam around meant they must’ve been cleared of the big bad bug. He was more than glad to see that they were OK. After seeing what that bug had done to Kit, he really didn’t want to see anyone else he loved go through it. Especially a heavily pregnant Maggie.

Love…. Yeah, he had to admit it now. He fuckin’ loved her. He strongly suspected that he’d loved her, one way or another, from the first day he’d met her. He remembered feeling something anyway, even just from that first few minutes, lugging boxes out to the trucks together. She’d seemed so different to anyone else he’d ever met and yet so familiar at the same time.

He didn’t know how he’d let it get to this stage without doing something, saying something. He hoped to high heaven he hadn’t left it too long and he hoped to high heaven that she at least liked him enough to stay and not to be freaked out by the admission, he was now sure he’d have to make. He couldn’t go another night like last night; without knowing where he stood, or at least wrap her in the arms that itched to hold her.

“Hey!”

Daryl almost jumped out of his skin. He’d been up on the old tower for almost an hour. It wasn’t used much these days, usually only manned when they thought there might be more than walkers heading their way. It had a decent view of the garden though and the two houses between it and the garden allowed that view, without anyone in the garden necessarily seeing it - Or the man on it.

“Carl, Jesus!” He exclaimed, snapping his head around as the boy reached the top of the ladder and hauled himself onto the platform. How the fuck had he managed to sneak up on him like that?

“Nope, just Carl.” The boy smiled, obviously pretty pleased with himself at the moment.

“What the hell you doin’ up here?” He shot back gruffly, ignoring the joke and Carl’s playful mood.

“No need to ask why you’re up here.” The boy shot back, with a slight nod in the direction of the garden.

Daryl didn’t have a ready answer for that and avoided the boy’s eyes, as he looked out over the wall, as if his purpose had been something entirely unrelated to spying on the garden.

“Although, I don’t know why you’d be up here and not just come down and say ‘Hi’, if you just wanted to check on Maggie, Carol and Edith?” The boy added, giving him an out. They shared a look. Daryl figured it was pretty clear to Carl what he was doing up here and that he didn’t want a face-to-face with his family right now. Not while they were with Kit. Not while he couldn’t hide how he felt about the woman now, any better than he apparently had yesterday afternoon. Carl knew…. Clever little shit.

“I’ll catch up with ‘em later.” He grumbled. “Just came up here for some peace. Catch some shut eye.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d come home last night. Your room still looked like you hadn’t set foot in it yet, when I checked this morning.” Carl settled against the wall and looked out on the woods beyond. Mirroring Daryl’s pose.

“Hmmm,” he responded. “Had some stuff to sort out.”

Daryl had slept, if you could call it that, on the work bench in Aaron and Eric’s garage. It hadn’t been much and it had been very, very late, after much deliberation and soul searching but it had been something. He’d gone longer on less sleep than that before. There were other, more comfortable places he could have done his thinking and his napping but he’d had his reasons. At the end of the day, the most comfortable bed in the world would still have been like a bed of nails to him last night, without Kit curled up by his side in the damn thing.

“Did you see the vertical greenhouses we made?” Carl asked. Daryl nodded. “They’ll be a great help in all of the communities. Carol figures less so at the Kingdom, ‘cause they have more room anyway but still, a great idea.”

Daryl nodded again. Carl continued undeterred. “Enid’s pretty excited to show everyone back at Hilltop. Figures they could do with a good turn after the week they’ve had.”

“They goin’ back soon?” Daryl asked, suddenly worried that there may be a time pressure to catching up with Maggie and Carol. He wasn’t sure he could cope with anything else at the moment, Kit was all he could concentrate on for more than a minute.

“No, Dad says they should stay at least a few days. Let the bug blow through Hilltop and leave clear blue sky between it and them going back.” Daryl nodded with relief and returned his attention to the woods. “Carol won’t go back with them. She was supposed to be on a short trade visit, she’ll go back to the Kingdom in a day or two.” Carl added. “Did you know she was planning to go over and stay with Maggie for a couple of months for the birth?”

“No,” Daryl replied. He hadn’t known but it made sense. They were family after all. He’d want to see Maggie and Glenn’s baby too. Carol would be there for Maggie’s kid, just as she had been, as they all had been, for Judith. She’d hold that baby close and love it fiercely, just as she loved its parents and it would never replace Sophia, just as Judith never would but it would be something. Something good. She’d be an aunt.

He smiled despite himself. He’d be an uncle. He’d failed that baby’s daddy. Didn’t matter what anyone said, that’s how he saw it, how he felt about it. But he’d be damned if he’d ever let anything happen to Glenn’s kid if he had any kind of say in it. “It’s good though. Maggie’ll need the help. She’s got her hands full over there.”

“Yeah,” Carl began and Daryl took notice, seemed like the boy had more to say. “I was thinking about that.” He added, taking his cue, when Daryl seemed to be really listening, really paying attention; the way few adults, outside his family, ever did. “I think I’d like to go over too. I mean…. She WILL need all the help she can get running things and I can help. I help dad all the time. I know what needs doing and I think it’d be good for me to be somewhere else for a while. Learn from other people. You know…. It’d be like college, like an exchange trip or something… I mean, you have to get out of your comfort zone to learn or to kick yourself on right? You have to be prepared to put yourself out there and take a risk to go to the next level, don’t you think?.... That’s what I think anyway. You think dad would let me go?”

Daryl considered Carl’s stream of verbal diarrhoea. He obviously meant it, even if his veiled message, to Daryl himself, was less than subtle within it. He really wanted to go. Not just to support Maggie. Not just to learn. He wanted to spread his wings, get out from under his dad’s shadow. Go somewhere where he wasn’t just seen as an extension of Rick. As Rick’s kid. Daryl could relate to that.

He’d compared it to college and Daryl figured that was about right. He’d never been himself, obviously but he figured half of the reason for going was to break with your life as an appendage of your parents’ life and make one of your own. Carl was nowhere near collage age and that might be something tough for his dad to get over but in Daryl’s opinion ‘the boy’ had stopped being a child a long fucking time ago. He might not be exactly a ‘man’ yet, in every sense but Daryl figured you could clock at least an additional few years onto his biological age, to make up the difference. College sounded about right.   

“How long you thinkin’ of goin’ for?” Daryl asked.

“Don’t know. Thought maybe three or four months at Hilltop to start? Maybe other stints, there or The Kingdom, later if that works out.” He looked nervous and Daryl wondered if he was the first person Carl had spoken to about this. He looked briefly back at the garden.

“This idea wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain keen gardener would it?” He asked with a slight smile.

Carl was quiet for a moment, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Maybe a little. Maybe partly.” He admitted. “But mostly the other reasons.”

“Mmmm hmmm.” Daryl hummed, happily. “Well I think you’re dad’s gonna take some fuckin’ convincing.” He proclaimed and watched Carl’s face fall a little. “But I think it’d be good for ya and he’ll come around. Just gotta belly up to the bar an’ be brave kid.” Daryl smiled at the boy, one of his rare, encouraging half smiles. “Stick to ya guns. I won’t be the only one backin’ ya up.”

Carl beamed back, obviously thrilled to have Daryl’s vote of confidence and his backing, if needed. He started towards the ladder. “I better go, give you back your peace.” He said. “Let you get back to your ‘shut eye’.”

Daryl returned his gaze to the woods defiantly. “Daryl?” Carl called as he started his descent.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He gave the man a warm little half smile of his own. Daryl nodded back and started to return his attention to the other side of the wall, as Carl spoke again. Out of sight now, half way down the ladder. “And hey Daryl?.... same good advice goes for you man…. ‘Faint heart never won fair lady.’” He quoted in a sing song voice that Merle would’ve been proud of.


	35. Chapter 35

“Can I get you anything?” Rick asked, squatting down next to Maggie and placing his hand gently on her belly. “Either of you?” he laughed.

“No, we’re fine. Thank you though.” Maggie smiled back at him. He returned to the kitchen, where Carol had taken charge of dinner and the rest of the family were gathered around chatting happily, catching up and generally getting under Carol’s feet as they ‘helped’.

She’d join them in a minute. Like Kit said, as she excused herself a few minutes before - She just needed a quiet few minutes to herself. Maggie had been cooped up in the quarantine house for two days and having so many people around, all of a sudden, was an adjustment. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Kit. Three years of almost complete solitude, followed by four days or so with JUST Daryl for company. Maggie had to hand it to the woman, she was handling the change better than any of them had a right to expect.

She stroked her belly absentmindedly. It had been a beautiful day and she was glad to be free of quarantine, glad to see her family again, glad of some positive things to take back to Hilltop, glad to have met someone new. She smiled sadly, thinking of Glenn and was glad for the memories and the child that would be her tether to them and to him.

She found herself wondering if the others were right about the connection between Kit and Daryl. She also found herself fervently hoping so. Daryl took on too much of the darkness, that too often found them, along their path. He blamed himself for things he had no control over. He took the responsibility, the guilt, the pain as if it were only his due. It was time he found some joy and learned to claim that as his own too.

She knew that he had spent a long time in a very dark place after the prison, after Beth. She had too but she’d at least had Glenn to hold on to in that darkness. Daryl, she knew, had lost the first real home he’d ever known in that prison. And the last little beacon of light, the last little shadow of the life they could all have had there, had lived for a while, in surviving with Beth. Trying with Beth. Searching with Beth. Learning to hope with Beth.

Maggie knew that Daryl had been the only reason Beth had lived, as long as she had, after the prison but she’d given him something worth just as much as the protection he’d given her. She knew that Daryl’s heart and will had broken when he lost her little sister on that dark road. He hadn’t just lost her he’d lost himself for a while. Adrift. No rudder. No reason. No hope. All snatched away in the night.

When the group reconnected he’d gotten a taste of a purpose back again but the life was still gone and then her life was gone. With the squeeze of some stupid ego-maniac’s trigger her beautiful baby sister, her Bethy’s light was gone from the world and Maggie wasn’t sure what had been worse. Her seeing Daryl, crushed and in tears, staggering towards her carrying the lifeless body of her sister, who she’d thought she’d never see alive again until that day, or what he’d gone through in the minutes before. To have had her in his grasp, the missing little girl that had kept him human and given him a reason to carry on after the prison. To see her alive and well and still representing hope and innocence and life; then to see all of that blown away in a gut-wrenching, heart stopping moment. The second time for him. The second innocent girl. The second beacon of hope he’d clung to, desperately searched for and brutally lost.

Beth had been Maggie’s blood but she’d been Daryl’s salvation, his tenuous link to the human race and his reason to go on breathing for a while. That whole heartbreak had made him Maggie’s kin too somehow, she figured. Some kind of big brother. She liked that. She could’ve done a lot worse than Daryl for a big bro. …… Merle Dixon, for instance.

She knew he felt that too. That if he could put into words how he felt about her, about all of them, the words would be; brother, sister, niece, nephew – the word would be family, the word would be kin. Glenn had been a brother to him and in Daryl’s own style he’d shouldered the burden of ‘causing’ Glenn’s death.

He couldn’t just let the blame lie where it belonged, with the bat wielding maniac. The man who’d killed him and had probably planned to kill him from the second he’d shown how much he meant to the rest of the group, by stepping out of line to defend her and getting man-handled for it. Maggie figured the group had been too much trouble to Negan already, to escape with just one death. She figured Negan had always planned on two. His choices had not been random. It was no accident that he’d killed the largest man in the group, coincidentally sat to Rick’s right and the only man who had shown an obvious emotional connection to others in the group.

To her eyes, all Daryl had ensured with his later show of defiance, was his own imprisonment. He’d shown himself to be valuable to the group too and a dangerous man to leave with them – un-tempered, unbroken. Unbreakable…as it had turned out.

God knows what he’d endured during that week or so with the Saviours. They certainly didn’t. Whatever he’d gone through, he’d chosen to keep the details to himself. They knew he’d suffered. He had obvious injuries and the depth of his hatred for everyone in that compound had made it clear that he’d lost any compassion for anyone who would live with Negan’s rule. But he never spoke about any of it.

She wondered if he ever would, or if he’d lock it away like he had so many griefs - never speak about the dead; his own brother, her sister. Bury his own pain, the way he hid those scars she’d fleetingly caught glimpses of through arm holes and ripped fabric over the years. She’d winced at the thought of what they might represent. She’d wondered. But she’d never asked and he’d never told. The extent of Daryl’s ability to endure whatever was thrown at him, remained unknown and unknowable. The shit just kept on raining down.

Maggie knew that he and Kit must have shared a lot in their four days – she wondered just how much. Kit certainly knew a lot about Daryl’s family. Maggie knew, from things Kit had said, from the tone and the note of real understanding, more than the words, that she knew about Beth and Glenn. Not just that they were Maggie’s sister and husband but the ways they’d both been important to Daryl too. Kit seemed to know about everyone they’d lost, everywhere they’d been, everything they’d done.

Kit had asked directly what kinds of things they’d grown in the garden at her daddy’s farm. She hadn’t been at a loss when Enid mentioned Sasha. Carol had made a passing reference to T-Dog, as she spoke to Carl and Maggie had seen recognition in Kit’s eyes. T-Dog had been dead for more than two years but Kit knew exactly who he was and what he meant to all of them. She’d even jokingly called Judith Li’l Ass-Kicker. Was there nothing that Daryl had left out? Had he found someone to share, even the darkness, with? God she truly hoped so, she wanted that for him.

With a little struggle, Maggie rose from the sofa, as the man himself returned home. She made her way over to the door but Carol had beaten her to it, catching him in a long hug on the deck outside. He tapped out of the hug with Carol, as he caught sight of Maggie and leaned in for a quick embrace with her too. He’d never been ‘huggy’, didn’t like physical shows of affection but he tolerated them from his family and sometimes you could tell that he actually wanted to be in the hug. She hadn’t seen him for almost a month and this was one of those times. She smiled at the warmth of his short embrace. A ‘real’ hug from Daryl was worth ten from anyone else.

“How are ya?” He asked pointedly.

“We’re fine.” Carol answered.

“We’re all fine.” Maggie confirmed, patting her belly. “Glad you finally checked in. We were wondering if you were avoiding us.” She smiled and gave him a soft punch on the arm, to show she wasn’t serious and helped Carol usher him inside.

“Dinner won’t be long, we made enough for you too.” Carol said, but noticing him scanning the room, she changed tack. “If you’re staying?”

Carol was right. He was pleased to see them but they weren’t WHY he was here. He was looking for someone particular. Well, she guessed that answered that question.

“Kit went back to Tara’s for some peace and quiet, if that’s who you’re looking for.” She supplied. She regretted it instantly. Too public. Too blatant. He couldn’t just admit it and go now. She kicked herself as he denied it, in front of an entire room, full of family who knew better.

Michonne jumped in quick, to try and save him with another question. “Where you been all day? Did you go out?”

“Nah,” he answered shortly. “Had some errands to run. Things to do at Aaron and Eric’s. Bike… you know.” It sounded lame but it had done and they all let it go and went back to their general chatter.

Daryl stayed with Maggie and Carol. Asked them about this and that but his heart wasn’t in it and they both could see it. After a few minutes of catch up, Carol decided enough was enough and Maggie saw what she was winding up for from the moment she started.

“Kit’s going to show us a place she found nearby, full of radio equipment.” If Daryl had possessed rabbit ears they would have shot up at the mention of Kit. Maggie held in her smile with difficulty.

“Yeah, she thinks there’s enough, hopefully working, parts to get a HAM set up going here and maybe both Hilltop and The Kingdom too.” She smiled warmly at him, despite the fact that he was obviously only vaguely aware of what she was talking about or what it meant. Daryl really had already left the building.

“If she’s right, and it works it could be a real game changer for all of the communities.” Maggie added. “Help us keep in closer contact, make the distances between us less of a hindrance to working smoothly together.” 

“Mmm, she’s a real asset, that one.” Carol continued. “Well done for finding her Pookie.” She crooned, with a cheeky smile.

“More like she found me.” He responded, avoiding both of their eyes.

“Ah, well. You can make up for that now, if you don’t mind?” Daryl met her gaze with a questioning look.

 “I’d like to head back to The Kingdom soon, so really I’d like to go out and see about this equipment tomorrow. I’m not sure if I made that clear before she left.” She mused, looking quizzically at Maggie. “Could you find her for me now and ask her if she’ll take us there tomorrow morning?” She asked Daryl.

“Uhh, yeah.” He answered, looking like a man being thrown a life ring but trying desperately to act all cool about needing it. “Sure. I’ll go now.” He started backing towards the door, forcing both women to fight back laughter.

“Oh good, I know she wanted some peace but I’m sure she won’t mind you popping by.” She smiled, stirring the pot. Literally and metaphorically, Maggie thought, avoiding her eyes as she just couldn’t trust herself.

And he was gone.

“Well, case closed I reckon.” Maggie grinned widely, returning her gaze to Carol.

“Yes,” the other woman replied, raising her eyebrows cheerfully. “It would seem so.”

“Should we save him some of this?” Maggie asked, taking a sniff of the pot.

“Nope!” Replied Carol, with a wicked grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was mined fairly heavily from a similar chapter in the original story. So I'll probably pop another offering on between now & Weds, just to make up for the duplicated content.  
> Thank you for reading, as always. Questions/ comments/ ideas are, as ever, most welcome.


	36. Chapter 36

Kit sat on the edge of the decking at the back of the house. The door to the guestroom stood open at her back and the dog chased a butterfly across the garden in the last of the afternoon’s sun. It was hard to tell what she was looking at but she wasn’t tracking the movement of the dog. She seemed, more than anything, to be staring blankly into space. Or maybe – at the giant steel wall at the end of the garden.

There’d been no answer at the front door. On his way through the room, Daryl had noted that Kit hadn’t unpacked anything in the guestroom. Her bug-out-bag sat zipped up and ready to go by the door. Her link to this place was tenuous at best. It made him even more desperate. He had to make it easier for her to tolerate Alexandria, just for a day or so. Just long enough for him to make up some lost ground. Reconnect with her. Try to make her understand where he was coming from, without freaking her out completely.

“Hey.” He hadn’t meant to scare her but she was as unused to being snuck up on as he was with Carl this afternoon. The sound of his voice made her jump.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you. Carol and Maggie said you were here.” She didn’t turn around to face him. Her head seemed to dip and she swept a hand across her face. He hoped it was the innocent act, of sweeping her hair out of her face, that it seemed to be. He really hoped he hadn’t driven her to tears by bringing her to this place.

She nodded her head and began to track the dog’s movements. “Mmmm, didn’t fancy a crowd.” She replied evenly. “Sorry, I know they’re your family.” She shook her head slightly. “I do like them. I just couldn’t deal with a house full of people.”

“Hey, I know.” He assured her, advancing forward a little. “I get it, no need to apologise, no one expects you to be ready for the ‘apocalyptic Waltons’.” She laughed and briefly looked at him for the first time during the whole exchange. Daryl’s heart almost exploded at the sound. Holy fuckin’ Christ he’d missed that. Missed her. All of a sudden there was no time to lose. He’d made her laugh, there was a chance while he’d caught her in a good mood. He needed to capitalise quick.

“Hey Kit?” He began, hesitantly. “I got somethin’ t'show ya. Will ya come with me a sec?” He motioned to the side of the house and began to move that way. He felt like his prayers had been answered as she moved to get up and seemed willing to follow. The dog trailed after them a moment behind, catching up quickly to Daryl and claiming his hand. Nuzzling against him and begging for some affection. He responded on auto-pilot, shooting little glances sideways, at her mistress, as he petted the dog.

“Where are we going?” Kit asked, two houses down the road.

“You see that house?” he pointed, “That’s Aaron and Eric’s, you met ‘em yesterday yeah?” She nodded that she had. “Their garage, there, that’s where I keep my bike. Work on it, ya know.”

Kit stopped in the street by the garage, arms crossed as they had been since they’d left the garden. She stared at the garage door questioningly. “You want to show me your bike?” She asked.

“No.” He answered quickly. “Well, yeah. I mean, if you wanna see it, sure. But that ain’t what I wanted to show ya.” He moved further down past the garage door, to a gate in the attached fence. He un-latched and pushed it open, indicating for her to go through. “’S through here….look….please?”

Kit tentatively made her way over to the gate and squeezed past Daryl, through the opening in the fence. The dog followed and as soon as she was through, she shot past Kit and ran a circuit around the garden beyond.

The garden was almost bare. Just a deck at the back of the main house and the rest of the grounds laid to lawn. Unlike every other garden she’d seen so far though, this one was entirely fenced on all sides. And unlike every other garden, this one had a big outbuilding at the end of it, right next to the gate. The two French doors and the small deck of the annex were at right angles from the main house and therefore completely protected from its direct view. A private ‘granny flat’.

Daryl made his way past her, as she stood dumbfounded by what she saw. “It’s just two rooms an’ a little bathroom but it’s a decent size once you get inside.” He coaxed. “There’s a panel on the roof heats the water, so there’s hot & cold runnin’ water in there and a little wood stove for basic cooking but I found a panel I think’ll work for electric. Still gotta fix that up but it won’t take long and then you’ll have all the mod cons.” He ran up the two steps of the deck and opened the right hand French doors. He turned back towards her expectantly but his face seemed to fall a little at her expression and lack of movement. “Will ya at least look?” He asked, softly. “Please Kit? For me?”

“Is this?” Kit, shook her head, bewildered. “Is this where you’ve b… Did you do th… is this for me?” She asked, almost in a whisper.

“It sure is neighbour.” Eric intoned, bounding towards them enthusiastically from the house.

The dog had taken well to both Eric and Aaron when they’d briefly met, during Kit’s tour with Tara the day before. Lucky thing too, as Kit was in no fit state to concentrate on controlling the animal right now. Although wary of the intrusion, the dog was relaxed enough not to view Eric as a threat. She took her place by Kit’s side and watched the exchange between the humans benignly.

“If you want it of course.” Eric added. “We’d love to have you here and of course you’d have your privacy, we promise not to be ‘in your face’ every five minutes but we’d be here if you needed anything and you’d be away from prying eyes.” Eric looked from Kit to Daryl and back again. “Daryl said you might find it easier here, if you were going to stick it out for a few more days? Give yourself a chance to make a decision about your long-term options?”

Kit smiled and relief flooded her face, as she looked back towards Daryl and the building, like it was a lifeline to her. Daryl had never been so grateful to anyone, as he was to Eric right now. He could fucking kiss him.

“OK then.” Eric slapped his hands together. “Let’s get the lady moved in before she has a chance to change her mind.” He said decisively, motioning Daryl to join him, as he made his way to the gate.

____________________

Eric had liked Kit the day before. She’d seemed distracted and more than a little lost to be in this weird Disney Land community but she was smart and obviously a world-class badass and she seemed sweet underneath it all. She seemed like someone he’d have liked before. A bit ‘other’, a bit of a fish out of water, in this kind of place, even then. He liked that.

As he and Daryl helped her move a few boxes in from her jeep-thing though, he began to like her even more. They’d hardly done much but she was just so blown away that they’d done anything for her at all. Eric had helped Daryl and Aaron clean the place up a bit, found a few basic items of furniture, a set of bedding, a dog bed, a few provisions for the cupboards, an icebox. He and Aaron had fitted the place out while Daryl had hooked up the heating panel on the roof and fixed a pipe in the bathroom. That was all really but you’d think that, between them, they’d lassoed the moon for her or something.

This woman had never been ‘given’ anything in her life before – that was very clear. She’d worked for whatever she’d had before the world went to shit and she’d worked just as hard for everything she had now. Eric had never met anyone he wanted to spoil more than Kit. Except Aaron, of course and maybe Daryl too – Daryl could definitely stand some spoiling.

She’d almost cried when they showed her the little kitchenette and she’d spotted the kettle on the stove and the teapot on a nearby shelf. Daryl had insisted that Eric needed to source those two items specifically. He’d said they were more important than the bed or the sofa. The look on her face told him Daryl had been right on the money. But Daryl never said a word, as she noticed these details, never claimed any credit, seemed reticent even to remind her he was still there. He seemed to want Eric to lead her around.

She’d actually laughed with joy when they showed her the tiny bathroom. It may have been tiny but damn it if some clever bastard of an architect hadn’t managed to actually get a bath in there. Eric had found her a set of towels and had provisioned the cabinet with a few toiletries he thought a woman might appreciate. She’d asked if she could hug him. He’d laughed as he pulled her in for some love. Eric liked Kit a lot.

At that point he’d decided that Tara’s gossipy news, as he’d run around town sourcing bits and pieces for the house, had been spot on. He’d had an idea that Kit meant more to Daryl than he was letting on and now he saw why, if he hadn’t got the full picture yesterday. He hadn’t had any way of telling if Tara was right in her assertion, that the feeling between them was mutual and that Kit fully appreciated Daryl just as much. He still couldn’t really tell from what he’d seen so far but he was certainly ready to find out.

“Well, I’m glad you like it.” He laughed, releasing her from the hug, as he felt her growing awkward within it. “But there’s not much here for a proper meal and I for one, have worked up an appetite. Aaron was starting dinner when I left him, will you join us?”

She looked shell shocked again and Eric recalled the reason Daryl had given for wanting the house in the first place. “I swear we won’t make you stay any longer than you want to. Just don’t want you spending your first night here going to bed on a handful of crackers, when I know Aaron will have cooked enough for an army.”

He smiled benignly and she seemed to relax a little, though he noticed a furtive glance Daryl’s way as they all made their way outside. This would be Eric’s first opportunity to spoil her in his own right, by getting her something she wanted, without her having to ask.

Eric linked arms with Kit and lead her towards the house, tagging Daryl as they passed him. “Hey, you too big guy. You did all the real hard graft, you definitely need refuelling.” He smiled back at Daryl, as he followed on behind them and decided then and there that Kit had better want Daryl half as much as he wanted her. It was etched across the guy’s face, clear as day. Emotional fuckwit that he generally was, Daryl had found ‘the one’ and Eric had to approve his unexpectedly good taste.

Eric hoped, with every fibre of his being, that her taste was equally good.


	37. Chapter 37

By now Eric was convinced. The feelings absolutely went both ways.

Eric knew that Aaron would be happy to have both their new neighbour and Daryl over for dinner. Both men adored Daryl. He was the absolute opposite of a redneck, as far as they were concerned. His views weren’t entrenched or narrow. Daryl took everyone as he found them and judged them, not by what they were perceived by others to be, what labels they wore or what boxes they fell into but by what they did and who they really were.

Aaron’s first impression of Daryl had been what drove him to approach his group and offer them a home in Alexandria, in the first place. A group where even the obvious outsider, the solitary hunter, would give everything for the rest, was a group worth looking at. Outsiders, especially the kind who would actually probably be just fine on their own, only invested that kind of loyalty in people, in communities, of worth. Daryl had silently told Aaron that these were ‘good people’.

Back in Alexandria, they’d both taken an instant liking to him. Seeing him as an outsider, like themselves; accepted and respected for the contribution they all made to the community but not quite embraced as ‘one of us’ by the middle-Americans they found around them. They had wanted to take him under their wing, to an extent, to give him a safe haven for when the white picket fences of Alexandria wore on him too heavily.

It was always good to hear Daryl banging and crashing around in the garage, working on his bike or fixing up one of the cars. Knowing he was in his element, as happy as Eric imagined a ‘Daryl’ could be in this place. He liked to take him a drink or a snack, let him know he was nearby if Daryl needed anything and then disappear back into the house to give him his own space.

Eric would always be glad that they’d brought the whole group back to Alexandria. God knows what would have happened to them all if Rick’s group hadn’t been there for the Wolves’ invasion, or the herd breaching the walls and how on earth they would ever have survived the Saviours and Negan, he didn’t dare think about.

But Eric’s gratitude would always sit most squarely with Daryl. Daryl- who had relieved him of so much worry, whenever Aaron left the gates. When Aaron left on a trip of any great length it was usually with either Rick or Daryl and Eric knew that if Daryl was with him they would either both come back safe, together, or not at all. Daryl would not leave Aaron out there alone and he’d die before he’d let anything happen to Eric’s beloved partner.

Daryl would always put himself on the line, before everyone else. It was a worry to everyone who loved him but the man just didn’t seem to care enough about his own safety, his own life, to measure himself against anyone else and judge them of lesser worth. If the other person had family, or a loved-one they were worth ten Daryl Dixons. That was how he saw it and how he approached every hazardous situation. Aaron had told him, explaining that it broke his heart to see such a good, capable, honourable and ultimately pure-hearted person think so little of themselves and of their own value to the group.

Eric had agreed that it was sad and meant it but he’d also been secretly relieved that he would consider Aaron more important than himself on their runs. He knew that, with a bodyguard like Daryl, Aaron’s chances of survival were immeasurably improved.

Kit was very like Daryl in many ways. She was also a natural loner and seemingly didn’t consider herself much of any worth either. She certainly was worth something though. She was worth a lot. Once she’d recovered a little from the shock of her gift and got past her nerves at being thrust, once again, into company, Aaron and Eric had both got a chance to really see her.

They’d all spent a companionable meal together, chatting, swapping stories, getting to know Kit and letting her get to know them. She and Daryl hardly seemed to speak to each other but they’d hardly seemed to need to. They’d shared the narrative of what they’d got up to in Garvey before Kit brought Daryl home and finished each other’s sentences as they did so. Neither of them had seemed aware of it.

She was easy to talk to, when she’d relaxed. Speaking to her one-on-one with no one pressuring or quizzing her with questions and tests, she was funny. Her humour was dry and self-depreciating but she was also invariably on the nose with her observations. She was sharp as a tack and Eric, for one, felt like he wanted her as a friend.

Kit was now, by far, one of the most interesting people in town. She had such a broad range of knowledge on so many topics, due to her extensive travel and varied work experience. She and Aaron had really got on a riff, with swapping their travel stories. She’d really seemed to come into herself then and Eric had watched Daryl with interest, as he’d seen his own look of glowing adoration reflected in the other man’s face.

Aaron and Kit were completely oblivious to the adoration of their onlookers, as they got wrapped up in each other’s conversation. Daryl was probably oblivious himself but Eric saw.

He knew what the others thought about their relationship. Tara had made it clear that no one was buying them as friends, no one wanted her to leave, everyone wanted her to stay for Daryl’s sake. But weirdly he’d never really thought about love. Really, he’d just figured everyone just wanted to see Daryl get laid. The poor guy had seemed like he needed it for as long as Eric had known him. Kit seemed to fit the bill and she was wound pretty tight too, she probably needed the release as much as Daryl did.

He’d thought, along with the rest of Daryl’s family, that it would do them both good. He figured that it would relieve some tension and make everyone else’s hearts happy, to see their favourite redneck getting the thick end of the wedge for once. Maybe over time, scratching an itch would lead to a relationship. Maybe they’d be a couple but that hadn’t been Eric’s first thought in getting them together, to observe their connection, tonight.

Now he saw it though. There it was, clear as day. It was love. At least on Daryl’s side. These two damaged people, with the purest souls, had found each other. If things worked out, Eric now saw that it wouldn’t be just for sex, or to console each other for a few minutes. Neither of them was the ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’ type. If they got together that would be them – set for life. They could be each other’s salvation. Each other’s therapy. Daryl had really always needed THIS. He’d always needed HER.

Eric realized with sudden sadness, that he’d never REALLY seen Daryl happy. He’d seen him smile, that wry, jaded, half-smile he allowed himself sometimes but nothing like the warm, enveloping gaze he was directing at Kit. Eric prayed that she felt the same but he didn’t think he really needed to. She was too smart to ignore this. Too intelligent to throw away the love of a good man. Daryl was that ‘good man’ and Eric knew that she must see that, as clearly as everyone else here.

Eric smiled at the face Daryl wore in this moment, the one that made him seem years younger and without a care in the world - that face was just for Kit. As Aaron collected their dishes and Kit’s attention wandered back to the rest of the table, Eric smiled (inwardly) even more, as she noticed Daryl’s stare, a second before he managed to tear it way from her.

Yep, definitely mutual. Eric thought to himself as he collected the remainder of the plates and joined Aaron, leaving a flustered looking Daryl briefly alone with Kit and her shy little smile and flushed cheeks.  

_____________

She’d actually enjoyed tonight. Aaron was like talking with an old travel buddy. He’d been to places she’d only dreamt of and now, talking to him, hearing his stories, was as close as she’d ever get. She looked forward to living so close to both men. Eric was warm and friendly but seemed very aware that he needed to take it slow with her. She sensed he wanted to be her best friend in the whole world but he knew she needed space and time.

As she’d said her goodbyes, she’d actually briefly hugged them both. They hadn’t pushed. She knew they wouldn’t be offended by a curt “Goodnight then.” From the door. She’d wanted to show them that she was happy to be here, that she was grateful for the sanctuary they’d offered.

Daryl had risen to leave, as she did, had said his goodnight from the door, as she’d hugged them both. He’d waited for her. Walked her to HER door, as he made his own way to the gate. They stood awkwardly on the deck, not quite facing each other, not quite still.

“So, you’re good for a run out to this radio place tomorrow, yeah?” He asked again, having already discussed all of this at the dinner table an hour earlier. She felt like he was filling, like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t quite form the words.

“Yep.” She answered, and briefly catching his troubled expression, she decided to just be brave and ask. She needed to know. She couldn’t face another sleepless night, wondering where she stood.

“What did you mean yesterday?” She asked him directly. His head bobbed up and he met her eye, squinting questioningly, in the light from the solar lamps at their feet. “What were you sorry for?” She elaborated, simultaneously averting  her own eyes again, in case his answer was more than she could bear.

“I’m sorry.” He began.  “I wanted to say somethin’ sooner. Didn’t realise Rick was gonna be such a prick ‘bout keepin’ an eye on ya. Thought I’d have a chance to….” Daryl shifted uneasily and averted his own gaze again. “Anyway, I shoulda said somethin’ before we got here, shouldn’t a bin such a coward. ‘m sorry Kit.”

She looked up again. “What for?”

“Th’ other night.” He answered and her heart plummeted. He regretted it. Kit wanted to die. Daryl continued, growing more and more frustrated and angry with his drunken self as he went on. “It was our last night together and it felt so comfortable, I told you things I ain’t never told no one and it felt alright and you told me things and it felt like a privilege, like you trusted me. And what did I do? I just took advantage of ya, of your trust, like a fuckin’ animal.” She saw the tension in his balled fists, the anger, directed purely at himself. “I’m so sorry Kit. I don’t deserve it but d’ya think ya could ever forgive me?”

Kit stared open mouthed, startled by Daryl’s words. Could he really have skewed what happened that night, so completely, in his mind. Could he really not remember how she’d clung to him, practically eaten him alive, in the confines of that wardrobe? As he hurried on, begging for entirely uncalled for forgiveness, she reached for him. For the arms, now wrapping themselves around him like a protective shield. He wasn’t looking, he didn’t see.

“I mean, not now maybe. But you know. Sometime? Maybe?” He asked, shaking his head at the ground.

“Daryl.” She said, touching his arm.

 “Just please, please don’t go ‘cos o’ me. ‘Cos o’ that.”

“Daryl!” she gripped him harder and finally got his attention. Briefly caught his eye. He looked at her like the dog had, when she’d been a puppy. When she’d done something wrong. She shook her head and forced him to maintain eye contact.

“That’s not what happened.” She said. “There’s nothing to forgive.” She added, as his head began to lift and a glimmer of hope flushed through him. His arms began to relax, just a fraction. “You’d have known about it if you’d done anything I wasn’t happy with, I promise you that.” She added, recalling the odd slap, delivered in her youth, to those who’d thought she was drunk enough not to be too much of a challenge….WRONG!!! “You didn’t ‘take advantage’ of me.” She assured him, almost in a whisper. “It was completely mu..”

And that’s as far as she got.


	38. Chapter 38

“Oh, sorry.” Aaron apologized, as he rounded the corner and stepped up onto the deck, out of the darkness, obviously catching Kit and Daryl in the middle of some kind of heavy conversation.

Daryl backed away from Kit, tucking his arms tight around his torso, where they’d been loose, just a moment before and shook his head at the intrusion. He didn’t speak.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” He added, looking from one to the other.

“You didn’t.” Kit responded, in an overly chipper manner, turning to face him. Aaron got the impression he DEFINITELY had and that she was desperately trying to save Daryl’s blushes for something or other by dragging his attention to her. “Daryl was just settling the plans for the run tomorrow morning.” She smiled at Aaron, who wished he was somewhere else right now, anywhere else, about as much as he suspected she did.

Daryl seemed to make the decision that he couldn’t cope with this any longer. With a curt “G’night.” And some kind of sad little smile between the two of them, he quickly retreated to the gate and was gone. Kit seemed to slump against the glass of the French doors, as she lost sight of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry Kit.” Aaron winced.

She gave a sighing little laugh and a wan smile. “It’s OK.” She said “You didn’t do anything wrong either.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that but she seemed warmer towards him now at least. She directed her gaze to the contents of his hands questioningly.

“Oh, umm, Daryl said you like tea and that you hadn’t had much chance to take it with milk on the road.” Kit’s eyes began to water. “There are goats here. Not quite what you’d prefer probably but we figured you might like some for your tea.” He handed her a little plastic cup of milk. “Put it in your ice box with this and it should be good ‘til morning at least.” He said handing her an ice cold freezer pack. “We have a few of these in the freezer by the back door, so just help yourself to a fresh one whenever you have something to refrigerate.” He smiled at her but could see she was lost for words. “Until Daryl gets your electric hooked up anyway.” He laughed but for some reason she seemed like his words had pushed her to the brink of tears. He smiled again and started to back away. “Goodnight Kit.”

She let him get almost to the edge of the deck. “Aaron?” He looked back. “Thank you.” She said, indicating the cup and the block in her hands. “Thank you both… so much.” She smiled at him and Aaron knew what Eric had meant earlier, about wanting to spoil her. “Goodnight.”

He nodded, turned and walked back to the house. Glad to have her here. Wondering what on earth he’d interrupted.  

______________

Daryl had intended to march straight home, as quickly as possible after dinner, drink the remaining quart of Jack in his room, maybe start on the one Rick had stashed in the utility room and try to figure out how the hell to proceed from here, or pass out, whichever came first.

After their conversation on her porch though, his confession, her revelation; he’d got no further than the other side of the garden gate. He slumped against the wood and let his jello-like knees give way beneath him.

What the fuck was that? She felt it too, this thing inside him, he’d thought it was just him all this time but she felt it too. He didn’t know exactly how long it had been building, maybe the full three years ago. And she’d done something about it. She’d made him talk, forced his confession and his fears out in the open and then thoroughly dismissed them. She’d been brave and put them both out of their misery. And god help her, she’d let all hell break loose.

He couldn’t process the feelings she’d awoken again tonight. He’d been transported back to that night in the closet. He was scared to death of the needs she’d stoked in his body, he felt himself teetering on the brink of losing control. Holding her close that night had felt like the first time, by the lake, like it was the only thing that made sense in his entire fucking life. Kissing her had felt like winning the biggest prize, for the hardest fought competition in the world. It felt like his idea of heaven.

Shit like this didn’t happen to Daryl Dixon. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve her heaven, didn’t deserve her love. That’s what she’d offered, he realised, what she still seemed happy to offer, though god knows why she was offering it to him.

He heard her and Aaron talking on the porch and ached to hold her again. To reach for her, the way she’d reached for him. Give her whatever she wanted from him, whatever she was willing to take. He rose, on shaking legs to make his way home. Knowing, in his heart of hearts, that he WAS home. SHE was his home. He’d felt it from the second she’d made contact with his hand that day three years ago, as they’d said their goodbyes by the truck. She was everything and walking away from her, both then and now that he knew that it was at least partly mutual, was fucking painful.

_______________

Kit left the door ajar for the dog and rested the solar lamp on the kitchen counter, as she put the milk and freezer pack in the ice box. She looked up at the tea pot on the shelf and over at the kettle on the stove. He’d told them about her tea fetish. He’d orchestrated all of this. She’d thought he’d been avoiding her all day. She’d been on the brink of just getting up and leaving. But he’d done all this for her. He’d asked his friends for help but basically this was all him.

She emptied biscuits into a bowl for the dog and looked out to see the animal sitting in the middle of the stretch of lawn between here and the garage, surveying her new territory. She was safe to be left out here. No way to get out of the garden. She’d be happy and safe and no one needed to worry about meeting up with her in a dark alley. This would work.

With a smile, Kit retreated into the bedroom. She pulled a shirt out of her pack, that she hadn’t worn for weeks and held it to her face, breathing in its scent. It didn’t really have it anymore, she guessed it never actually had but the fabric itself made her feel just a little happier, a little more content. She got herself ready for bed. Spent ten minutes or more brushing her teeth. Staring at the ghostly woman in the bathroom mirror. Wondering who she was. Who she could be.

Eventually, she settled on the bed and pulled the covers up around her. The bed was comfortable and the covers fresh but there was still a missing person in the bed at her side. There was still a missing heartbeat against her hand, a missing tide of breathing ruffling her hair. It was bearable though. Tonight it was bearable and tonight she was confident that she would get, at least some, sleep.

It was definitely going to be worth staying, at least a little longer. He didn’t regret kissing her. The worst wasn’t happening. There was hope.

She opened her hand and looked at the other object she’d pulled from her pack. It had been months and months since she’d even bothered to charge it but she had done on the way to Patterson. She knew she wouldn’t be sharing a bed with Daryl that first night. She knew she might want it.

As she’d curled up in the guestroom, finally allowed a moment’s peace, at Tara’s place, she hadn’t even thought of it. Her head and her heart had been in such turmoil. Unable to decode what was going on. Unable to tell if Daryl actually cared about her as much as she desperately wanted him to, or if he’d accidentally lead her on and now just didn’t know how to break it to her.

She knew now. He’d wanted to kiss her. He’d felt guilty for some bizarre reason, imagining that she might not have wanted him to. Imagining that he had somehow ‘taken advantage’ of her. She laughed at the thought and reached inside the tiny bag.

She’d found it a week after she’d ditched the Texas group. Hiding out in an apartment above a strip mall, she’d scoured the shops for useful bits and pieces before she moved on. The ‘Adult’ shop hadn’t seemed a likely prospect but you never knew what might be in the back office, or the break room. There hadn’t been anything particularly interesting but she’d looked around anyway.

She’d spent most of the previous night torturing herself, with thoughts of friends, wondering where they were and how they were getting on. Her thoughts had inevitably travelled, as they so often did in those days, to the man she’d met just before the world went to hell. The only man she’d ever wanted to kiss.

She’d taken some time to make her choice. In the end she’d gone for something small and easy to carry and charge. She had very little experience with these things so she didn’t really know what would ‘get her off’ but all the literature in the shop seemed to agree that clitoral stimulation was a no-brainer for most women and she did have some memories of ‘experimenting’ in her teens and early twenties. She vaguely remembered a heady rush from her own manual efforts.

It was five inches long, about an inch and a half around, at its widest point, deep purple in colour and had seven ‘pulse settings’. It was a ‘starter’ vibrator by anyone’s standards, she presumed but that’s exactly what she supposed she needed. She’d used the marker by the till to add a name to the little protective pouch. She spread the material and inspected the faded letters now. ‘D D’ – not his initials. In her head she’d always thought of them as standing for the nickname, Dishy Daryl.

She discarded the pouch with a smile. Pressed the button three times and got to work. Closing her eyes, she used her memories of that night in the wardrobe. Reaching out with her imagination, she fantasised that he’d come back to her little house tonight, after Aaron had gone, found the door open, made his way to her bed, crawled under the covers to join her. She smiled, laughing at herself, as she made first contact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <:-o Naughty little minx!


	39. Chapter 39

Carol waited patiently on the bench, taking in the view of Alexandria. From here she could see the gate and many of the houses surrounding the small lake at the centre of the community. She’d always liked this spot and when she’d decided on today’s course of action, she’d chosen to wait here. She’d have ample time to catch the sunrise before it was time to get going.

When Rick had told her and Maggie about Kit, Carol had been glad of it. To her, it meant Daryl might be recovering some of his old self again. After all the knocks of the past few months, the last time she’d seen him he’d still been mired in one of his distant spells of depression. It gladdened her heart to think that he was allowing himself to trust his instincts again, to trust that there were still good people in the world despite everything they’d been through and all the evidence to the contrary.

In many ways, Daryl was more of a boy than Carl, she thought. More of an innocent. He might look tough and act it much of the time but each death, each betrayal, each soul-destroying ‘lesser of two evils’ choice, ate away at his sensitive heart. Each time he’d retreat into his shell again. To the dark hole where nothing could hurt him.

Except that hole didn’t exist anymore. It might have worked in the old world but here Daryl had built relationships he couldn’t hide from, formed bonds he couldn’t sever. He’d started to try to understand where his pain came from, the pain he’d carried long before the dead started walking and he’d begun the long process of learning how to put it away.

She was glad then, that Daryl was showing signs of the man he so desperately wanted and deserved to be, so obviously WAS inside, behind his slowly crumbling walls. But that wasn’t where the tail ended.

Rick had gone on to describe Kit and her backstory. He told them how Daryl and Kit had met and that they’d spent four days together before arriving at Alexandria’s gates. That he’d failed to realise what everyone else had seen immediately and had mistakenly kept them apart, hindered Daryl’s chances with a woman who was already antsy about being penned in.

“I swear, I don’t know her well enough to call it on her side but I’ve never seen Daryl like this, none of us have and I think she’s got the hots for him too. It’s weird but I wasn’t the only one to notice. There’s definitely something going on between them but Michonne reckons it’s unresolved.”

Carol had thought back to the early days, at the prison. She’d had a bit of a thing for Daryl herself at that time, she didn’t mind admitting. He’d been so sweet over Sofia. She’d let him comfort her, grown to care for him, flirted with him, tried to tease. She’d thought he just wasn’t interested to start with but he didn’t seem to mind her company or the banter. It had taken her a while to realise but she’d finally reached the sad conclusion that Daryl had no idea she was genuinely interested in him for himself. He actually thought she was just being funny with him. He just didn’t think about these things. Just didn’t think that way. Just didn’t imagine anyone else might think of HIM that way and mean it.

After that realisation, she’d begun to feel less attracted to him as a possible lover and far more affection for him as a wounded, broken boy, who’d been forced to pretend to be a man, far too early and for far too long. Carol loved Daryl fiercely and she knew he felt the same way, despite her skipping out on them all those months ago but she hadn’t been the right woman for him. She wasn’t sure what Daryl needed but it hadn’t been her, not like that anyway. It hadn’t been any other woman – or man - they’d met along the way either. She’d begun to suspect that Daryl was made to live a solitary life in this world, to be always apart, to suffer and bear witness and die alone, the last man standing.

He had changed though. Through the years he had grown into himself. He’d evolved from some kind of backwoods man-child, held back by his family and his own uncertainty about his place in the world and his value, into a grown man, with responsibilities and real connections with the world and the people around him.

“I never met anyone so completely oblivious to the opposite sex – that wasn’t actually gay – before Daryl.” Maggie said. “You sure he’s really interested in her like that?”

“Yeah,” Rick answered. “We’re all pretty sure. Thing is, they haven’t done anything about it. I mean, I think they both like each other like that but you know what Daryl’s like… ain’t no way he’s gonna put that shit into words and he ain’t gonna try and jump her, so nothing’s gonna come from that side. Even if he WAS brave enough to put himself out there, he wouldn’t risk scaring her off and having her go back out there on her own. Not now. He’s stuck.”

Both Maggie and Carol had nodded at that. They couldn’t imagine Daryl putting any kind of carnal need before a woman’s safety.

“And she’s just as bad.” Added Rick, “she might WANT to ‘jump his bones’ and Michonne assures me that she does. But she’s not the type that’s going to say it and she’s not going to give him a clear enough signal. No sign COULD ever be clear enough for Daryl, let’s face it.” They all nodded at that.

“It sounds kind of beautiful and sweet and really, really fucking sad, all at the same time.” Maggie concluded.

“Yeah.” Rick had agreed. “And that’s why we gotta help him get his shit together. I, for one, want to see that man happy. Even if it’s just for one god damned day.”

Carol had seen it, later the same day, right there on first meeting. Damage. Maybe not quite the same as Daryl’s but something like it. Something of a very similar vintage and a very similar depth. Sofia would have carried their kind of damage into adulthood too. It made her sick to her stomach, that she’d been that weak a mother, the one that would have allowed her daughter to grow up with a festering wound at her core. That she would have failed her child the way these two had been failed as children. That if none of this had ever happened, if Ed hadn’t died, if Sofia hadn’t died, they’d have carried on as they were before and slowly dug Sofia her own dark hole to crawl into, as her only safe refuge. 

Kit was a marvel though. She had all her ducks in order. This girl could have survived out there on her own for years, decades, Carol had no doubt in her abilities, or her potential value to any community. And the wonder of it was that she was still human. Still a good person. She’d had to do terrible things, of course, she must have. But she was still a hero, when her help was needed, those Hilltop girls could attest to that. She was still generous when she could be. A real sweetheart beneath a bad-ass exterior. She was SO like Daryl in essentials, Carol couldn’t help but like her.

She saw the distance she kept from everyone. Had tested it out herself, to see just how close she could get before Kit’s discomfort made things awkward. She’d allow the core group, Daryl’s ‘family’, a little closer than everyone else but not much.

Carol had begun to worry then that Daryl just wouldn’t ever allow himself to believe that a woman like Kit was interested in him at all, even if she did make her feelings clear. He’d do what he’d done with Carol herself. He’d like being around her, spend time with her when he could, let her get away with things he’d never take from anyone else, grow to love her over time but never lay a hand on her, never even think to.

That was until she’d seen him last night, at the house. She was surprised that he’d got so far in so short a time but it was clear that he did already have strong feelings for Kit. He was aware of them and he knew what he wanted. He just couldn’t be trusted to get there on his own. She’d decided that she was going to do whatever she could to help. She wanted to see him happy too – even just for one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of aversion of a chapter from the original that I wanted to include (for Carol's perspective) but didn't have anywhere else to put but here. I really hope it doesn't drag things to a halt for those who are waiting for Kit and Daryl to get a chance to sort out the events of last night. Hang in there. It's not going to be quite that easy (of course) but hopefully there's some fun bits coming up.


	40. Chapter 40

Michonne welcomed Carol with a smile and the silent offer of coffee, as she arrived at the house. It was still early. They weren’t due to leave for an hour yet but Michonne had suspected that Carol would be raring to go. She’d practically said so the night before and Michonne, for one, understood and shared her reasons for wanting to get started.

The equipment they were heading out to collect would make a real difference to all their lives but honestly, she couldn’t really care less about that. As far as she, Carol and every other member of the ‘family’ was concerned, this was the first chance they’d had to see Kit and Daryl in each other’s company and working together as a team. Something, they all expected, would be an awesome sight to behold. Also the first real opportunity they’d have to spend lots of time together, since they’d arrived.

Maggie couldn’t go, for obvious reasons and everyone else was rostered on to other duties today. Carol and Michonne would be the only members of Daryl’s family going with them. They’d pulled Mike off guard duty to join them. Another strong pair of hands would be necessary, some of the equipment would be heavy and Mike was the only member of the community with any kind of technical know how in this field. He certainly didn't profess to be an expert but hopefully it would give them some kind of head start in putting it all together.  Tara had told them all about Kit’s obliviousness to the man’s interest on her first day in town. They’d all thought it would be interesting to add him to the mix for that reason too and he was a playful enough guy, to find the idea of ruffling Daryl’s feathers rather fun.

The plan was not to thwart Daryl though. Mike knew, as well as pretty much every other resident of Alexandria did by now, that Kit was Daryl’s girl. Whether the two people in question chose to acknowledge it or not. He understood. He wasn’t butt hurt over it. He’d liked her but he liked Daryl, from a respectful distance, too. He was more than happy to help provide a little frisson of jealousy, if needed. But he hoped, like the rest of the party, that his services wouldn’t be required.

They’d planned out the logistics last night but Daryl had returned late from dinner at Aaron and Eric’s. They’d known that would be where he was. Once he’d gone off to find Kit, Tara had excitedly told them all that Eric had been asking around for bits and pieces to fit out their garden ‘den’ for the woman, at Daryl’s request. When he hadn’t returned by the time they’d eaten, they figured that things had gone well and he’d be spending his evening with them. Or maybe just her – some had speculated gleefully.

Michonne had doubted that the glacial pace of Daryl’s courting (if you could call it that) would thaw quite so suddenly but she’d hoped, at least an evening together, even in others’ company, would help.

She’d waited up, with Rick. They’d used today’s run as the excuse, needing to tell him that they’d be setting off a little earlier than planned. Really, they’d just wanted to gage his mood. See how things had gone with Kit.

They’d been none the wiser, as they made their way to bed after his return. Daryl had seemed on edge, jittery. He wasn’t in a ‘bad’ mood. Just not a communicative one. He seemed a little unsure of what to do with himself. Full of a strange nervous energy that neither of them had seen from him in a while (if ever).   

After briefly updating him about this morning’s plans, he’d nodded and seemed eager to get to his own room. They couldn’t imagine he’d have an easy time getting to sleep, the state he was in but he craved privacy, at least. They’d said their good nights and left him to his own devices.

“Is he up?” carol asked, accepting her cup.

“Yep. He’s in the shower!” Michonne replied, with a raised eyebrow.

Carol smiled back. “Well, it’s a good sign that he still wants to make a good impression.”

“Yeah, I think Tara was being a bit optimistic.” Michonne replied. “I don’t think he got any last night. Seemed like it had been a positive reaction though.”

Carol nodded and drained the last of her coffee, just as the man himself emerged.

“Hey!” He greeted them both, a little surprised to find them both up and ready to go before him. It was rare for anyone to beat Daryl out of bed in the morning.

Michonne passed him his coffee. “You want breakfast?” she asked “Made some toast?”

Daryl nodded his thanks and smeared some hazelnut spread on the toast, before taking a bite. He eyed them both warily. He knew there was something coming.

“So, we were thinking.” Carol began. “That we shouldn’t take two trucks. One should be enough for the equipment we’ll be bringing back and we shouldn’t stretch resources for a local run.”

“Yeah, OK but there are five of us goin’ right?” Daryl looked confusedly at the two women. “Three in the cab means two have to ride on the truck bed. ‘s fine on the way out but probably not great, crushed up with all the equipment, on the way back.” He looked from one to the other. “Plus, there’s still a million things could go wrong on a run. Two vehicles means you got cover if there’s an emergency or a breakdown or somethin’. Still can’t take stuff like that for granted. We can set up some kind o’ triple A once we have the HAM set up, ‘til then, we’re on our own out there.”

Michonne smiled, delightedly. That was the first joke she’d heard from Daryl in months, maybe even years. She saw Carol appreciating this return to form from him too. “Well I guess we’ll need an outrider then huh!” She smiled, catching him on the shoulder with an open palm.

_____________

They hadn’t been able to move fast enough to keep up once Daryl realised they wanted him to take his bike out with them. There’d be room on that bike for one more butt and neither Michonne or Carol expected an invitation.

They all met Mike as he made his way towards the house. Poor guy didn’t even get a coffee. Daryl  and Michonne left the others to sort out the truck and made their way over to Aaron and Eric’s, to collect his bike from their garage and Kit from her new home.

Michonne was curious to see Kit’s place and leaving Daryl, refuelling the bike, she let herself out of the side door and walked across the lawn to the little structure. The dog approached her welcomingly enough and Michonne lavished some affection on her as she knocked on the glass door. Carl would be coming over, with Judith and Enid, to keep an eye on her while Kit was away.

The sound roused Kit from the depths of the house and Michonne suddenly realised just how much earlier it was than they’d told her they would be leaving. She felt a rush of sympathy for the, obviously flustered, other woman. Kit rushed to open the door, dressed only in a large man’s shirt she must have been wearing to sleep in.

“Oh God I’m sorry Kit.” She began. “We all got going so much quicker than we thought we would. You’re not late.” She confirmed, for a bewildered Kit. “We’re super-early.”

She laughed a little, relaxing now she knew it wasn’t her mistake. Michonne liked the laugh and couldn’t imagine she’d ever have heard it if Kit hadn’t had somewhere like this to call home last night.

“Oh, thank god for that!” She responded. “Thought I was going mad.”

Kit obviously caught Michonne’s look, at the sight of her night dress and shook her head.

“Oh don’t worry, I wasn’t actually in bed.” She assured. “Been up a while. Already had my cuppa and some breakfast. You just caught me getting finished up in the bathroom.”

Both women smiled and then Michonne saw something register in the corner of Kit’s vision and knew it must be Daryl. He must have heard the knock and the exchange and come out to see her. Probably couldn’t help himself, Michonne thought, as she noticed Kit suddenly going all coy.

Michonne turned to see Daryl stepping up onto the deck and in to the shadow of the building. Allowing him to see both women properly. She caught him almost freeze at the sight of Kit. He looked almost in shock and Michonne thought it odd, even for a man as obviously smitten as Daryl was, that he didn’t seem able to tear his eyes from the poor woman.

“Morning.” Kit offered shyly, subtly pulling down on the hem of the shirt she wore and receiving a dazed nod in response. “I’ll just pop and get dressed. Be with you in two minutes.”

As the woman left the door ajar, allowing Michonne a good view of the interior, she scanned the room and nodded approvingly before turning back to Daryl.

“We do tend to like it when you stare a little but you can take things too far, you know?!” She smiled.

She was surprised to find him still staring blankly after Kit, at the spot she’d just vacated. Deep in some unfathomable thought or other. Suddenly he registered her gaze on him, although perhaps he’d entirely missed what she’d said. He shook himself out of it and turned on his heels. “C’mon.” He grumbled.

______________

Kit had only ever ridden on the kinds of four by four buggies and quad bikes, you found on farms, or mopeds in busy cities. She’d never been on anything as dangerous, or exciting, looking as Daryl’s bike.

As she caught up to the group, she realised that they were five, not the four she’d expected. She guessed it made sense to rope in another strong pair of hands but she also noticed that they were stood by only one truck and Daryl’s bike.

Looking at the faces of Daryl’s two ‘sisters’, Kit sized up the situation instantly. Daryl would have to either ride alone and one of his companions would be stuck on the truck bed, or offer pillion to one of the women. Of course he could choose to ask Michonne or Carol but then he would leave Kit, squashed in a confined cabin with another single man, who was close to her age, not unattractive and obviously liked the look of her, going by her interactions with Mike so far. She had to imagine that these ladies, pros that they both undoubtedly were, had laid some groundwork already. Told him all about Mike’s interest on her first day in town.

She wasn’t quite as oblivious as she often appeared. She knew when a guy was hitting on her. She just also knew how to fake obliviousness. It often saved the man some embarrassment and it usually completely put them off trying again, without actually having to hurt them. And if she’d just misread the situation and he was only being friendly (best case scenario) or taking the piss (worst case scenario) then she saved face too. Win, win.

“Well played.” She muttered to herself, as she approached, smiling at them all.

“Nice bike.” She said and approached the machine, as Daryl held it at his side. He nodded his thanks for the praise and smiled a little. God she loved that half-hidden smile of his. “You built it from scratch right?” She asked, knowing the answer. He’d told her all about his bike already. “I’d love a ride some time, if we get a chance. Maybe on the way back?” She said, enthusiastically. “But I guess it’ll be going on the truck with us for now?” She rushed on, watching Carol and Michonne’s faces fall a little. Firstly at having their chance to watch Daryl make ‘Sophie’s Choice’ about his passenger taken away, by her just blatantly asking. And then by having the whole thing thoroughly knocked on the head all together, for entirely practical and reasonable reasons.

Daryl looked a little disappointed himself, for a second but catching the other two women’s expressions, he caught on fast. He smiled a little wider at Kit as he wheeled the bike around to the tailgate. Mike just straight-up laughed, pulling the ramp out of the truck bed. “Here man, I’ll give you a hand.”

Without a word, Kit swung herself up into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. Michonne and Carol looked up at her questioningly. She shrugged back. “I know where we’re going. You can decide between you who else gets to sit up front.”


	41. Chapter 41

It hadn’t been much of a decision in the end. Daryl and Mike just stayed on the truck, once the bike was loaded and hit the roof to signal they were ready. They seemed happy enough so Carol and Michonne clambered in the passenger side and settled in. Kit didn’t feel too bad for the guys. It wouldn’t be a long journey and on a hot day like this, they’d probably enjoy their naturally air conditioned ride, a lot more than the three women stuck in the cab.

The roads were clear, with just the occasional walker ambling out from the brush at the roadsides as they passed by. Despite knowing full well what their little plan had been for Daryl, Kit didn’t hold it against them. She didn’t feel any animosity from the other women. She’d gotten along with both of them just fine so far. She preferred to assume that their interference had been an attempt to force some kind of reaction. She knew she’d done a terrible job of hiding her feelings for Daryl and she was beginning to allow herself to hope that he might feel the same after last night. She wouldn’t be sure until they’d had a chance to speak alone though and she had no intention of having that talk with an audience and she was pretty sure Daryl would feel the same.

Kit understood why Carol and Michonne would want to push them together. They obviously loved Daryl and wanted him to be happy. If that meant they approved of her, if she was his choice, then she couldn’t reasonably be anything but flattered. They just didn’t realise that things were a little more complicated with them. They couldn’t have any idea that Kit’s background made their tentative relationship so far, difficult to navigate for both of them and they really just hadn’t had any time alone to try to communicate and see if they were even on the same page.

Before either of her companions could start up some ‘subtle’ conversation about she and Daryl, Kit had jumped in with questions about the Kingdom. It was a community she’d never come across and there were plenty of questions, on the tip of her tongue, to keep them going until they got to the studio.

Half an hour later, they crawled up to a non-descript building the Alexandrians had seen a dozen times before, on their raids of much more promising looking targets, in the town. They’d asked her how she knew it was there already and she’d described ‘recce-ing’ the area more than a month ago. She’d moved quickly and carefully from place to place, finding safe little suburban houses to camp in each night and only driving very early or very late. It was always safest to move when there was just enough light to see without headlights but it was too late or too early for most people from larger camps to be out and about.

They’d all nodded. No one in Alexandria went out of the gates during the hours of darkness, unless it was an emergency. No one but Daryl and Michonne; both of whom were more than comfortable roaming around on their own, in the woods, in the dark. Michonne usually only did it for specific reasons, or when Rick pissed her off. Daryl just didn’t even think about it. If he was going out on a hunt he’d go before dawn or dusk because those were the best times to catch shit. Staying out all night had never bothered him, before or after the turn.

She had described watching Alexandria for a while, during her recce but deciding not to approach yet. She’d found a safe place to rest, in this town, that night and remembered poring over the local telephone directory, as she camped out in a lock up garage in a nearby street.

The recording studio itself hadn’t been interesting to her but the vets office next door had. She remembered looking through the windows of the studio on her way there and realising that whoever owned this recording studio hadn’t just been interested in recordings. She didn’t know much about radios herself but she’d seen a HAM setup before, more than once and knew what one looked like when she saw it. Through that window, she’d seen far more equipment than would be required for just one of them.

Maybe it didn’t all work. Maybe this guy had been stripping the other equipment for parts. Or maybe, just maybe, there was more than enough for three neighbouring communities to keep in close contact on a daily basis. Or maybe, at the very least, this collector would have left them clues and the addresses of others nearby.

As they pulled up, the women felt movement in the truck bed. As they came to a stop, both Mike and Daryl had obviously leapt from the back already. They got out to find the two men dealing with a clutch of walkers, shambling towards them from across the road. As they surveyed the area they discovered two more making their way around the side of the studio too.  Kit was closest, so she strode forward purposefully and took both walkers down with two quick and efficient thrusts from her knives.

It was the first example of proficiency that anyone but Daryl had witnessed from the newcomer and Carol and Michonne shared a quick approving look as they made their way around the vehicle to join her. The boys joined them too, having dealt with their little crowd and they met by the front door, to make their plan of attack.

“This place seems to be a bit ‘hotter’ than it was last time I was here.” Kit offered apologetically.

Michonne, Mike and Daryl shared a look. Michonne explained their thinking. “There’s a warehouse nearby that we raided for building materials a few weeks ago. There were a bunch of walkers in the yard out back. We kept them locked out there while we cleared out what we needed but there was an accident with the… well, anyway, we might have been responsible for a few more walkers getting loose in the area.”

Carol and Kit just nodded. Shit happened, move on.

Carol took charge and decided that she, Kit and Daryl should quickly check the inside of the building. They left Michonne and Mike to watch their backs. Mike was the closest thing to a radio technician they had in Alexandria, so she didn’t want him getting distracted by trying to assess the equipment inside and missing any potential dangers around him. Michonne’s katana was also not ideally suited to confined spaces. No one argued with her. Mike and Michonne took their positions and the other three headed in.

 They soon declared the ground floor clear, having split up to each check one of the three main rooms and any cupboards and store rooms in their section. Mike came in to assess the equipment and thought most of it looked like decent stuff that should work. He and Daryl got to work loading up the larger parts, while Michonne maintained vigil outside and Carol and Kit looked around for paperwork, or anything that might point to other collectors in the area.

Drawing a blank downstairs, they made the decision that the upstairs needed to be checked, in case there was an office up there. Daryl had just returned from the boys’ last loading of the larger equipment and Carol obviously decided that enough was enough. “You two check upstairs, see if you can find an office. I’ll help Mike with the rest of the equipment and we’ll grab some of the manuals I found in the back room too.

She’d correctly assumed that neither of them would be stupid enough to miss out on the gift of some privacy and the chance to be alone together. Daryl nodded decisively and set off up the stairs, without further ado. Kit followed and Carol wished them well, shaking her head, as she returned to the studio.

_____________

The door at the top of the stairs was locked. Never a great sign but Daryl knocked loudly first and hearing no response, shouldered the wooden barrier. They were still careful but anything they needed to worry about, should have made itself known by now, so Kit started checking drawers and desks straight away. The room was large but crammed full and shambolic. It was definitely an office though and the very first desk she checked, seemed to give up most of what they were looking for. She removed her backpack and started packing away likely looking paperwork.

“That shirt you were wearin’ this mornin’?” Daryl asked, out of the blue, returning from a swift circuit of the room. Kit froze. She knew what was coming. She’d known it would come at some point, since she’d seen him clock it that morning. She continued to look through the drawer she was currently checking. A good excuse not to look at him. “It was a man’s shirt. Where d’ya get it?” He asked. Before she could pull herself together and frame a response, he continued. “Looked kind of familiar is all.”

Kit stopped briefly again and gave a slight sideways glance. He wasn’t checking the room anymore. He stood at the end of the desk, resting against a large filing cabinet behind him and watching her closely. She returned to her task but nodded slightly and cleared her throat.

“Hmm, yeah I s’pose it would.” She replied. “It was hanging out on the line at camp when I got back that day. I took it, thinking I’d have a chance to give it back at the next camp but the next camp never happened. I get my chance now though I guess… Finally.” She smiled, still avoiding direct eye contact and shoved a notebook into her bag. “I’ll wash it for you when we get back.”

“Don’t need it back but if you bin sleepin’ in it and ya wanna give it back, don’t you dare wash it first.” He said.

She looked up at his words and Daryl saw the shock at his sudden candour, change to desperate fear in her eyes, a millisecond before she rushed towards him.

She plunged the knife deep into the walker’s rotting skull, just above its ear, where a long dead hearing aid hung uselessly. It had been trying to pull itself through the space between two filing cabinets. The missing lower jaw, went some way towards explaining the lack of the usual grumbling walker soundtrack.

Daryl saw her shake with the adrenalin pumping through her veins and felt the strength of her hand, gripping his arm as she’d pulled him towards her, further from danger. In the following seconds, he gazed in wonder at this amazing woman, as he analysed her deeply emotional reaction to him being in danger. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t tip-toe any longer if his life depended on it.

“Thanks.” He whispered into the perfect shell of her ear. His breath rustling her fine, chestnut hair, just inches from him now.

“No worries.” She eventually managed to respond, struggling to sound composed. She let go of his arm and suddenly registering their proximity, began to shyly pull away again.

“No!” He said, articulating his thoughts, without filtering first. He couldn’t allow any more of this. He didn’t want to be overbearing or forceful but this needed to stop. He held her waist, gently but firmly, in his now free arm and refused to let her back off without a fight.

She looked up, into his determined blue gaze, startled at being restrained but unafraid. Now that he had her attention, Daryl pushed on. “Need to know… ‘bout last night.”

“Yeah.” She uttered, averting her eyes again.

“Were you gonna say ‘mutual’?” He asked, in a desperate whisper. “Was it? That night? Was it…. Is it?”

She nodded, slowly at first but then, meeting his eye, more deliberately. With a rush of relief, he nodded back and releasing his own tension with a sigh, he lifted his free hand up to gently caress her cheek.

“No misunderstandings this time.” He said softly, leaning forwards. “Can I kiss ya?”

Her response was as emotional as it was immediate. As he’d spoken the words, she’d longed to hear for two days now, a single tear escaped and rolled silently down her cheek. She wrapped her hand in the fabric of Daryl’s shirt and as she nodded a strong, decisive, affirmative response, she pulled herself up to hungrily meet his approaching lips.

“God, yes! ….Yes please.” She breathed, as their mouths clashed.


	42. Chapter 42

Every cell in Daryl’s body ached with joy and he finally felt the tension and guilt of the last two days, dissipate completely. As he relaxed into the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her closer into him. He was thrilled to find that it didn’t feel like she minded at all, she certainly seemed more than happy, as she clung to him too, running her fingers through his hair and over his chest.

Daryl felt that, knowing she was responding to him because she really truly wanted to and not just because she was drunk, made this kiss even sweeter, to him, than their first. The knowledge that she wanted this as much as he did, made him bold enough to swipe a suggestive tongue across her bottom lip. She responded immediately and invitingly, allowing him entrance and welcoming him with her own eager tongue. He almost couldn't take this much happiness. He felt like one more thing might make him pass out with joy.

Everything just felt right. Like they fit. Like he’d spent his whole life, not even realising what he was missing. He regretted wasting inferior kisses on inferior women while he waited, without knowing it, for Kit to turn up and show him how it should be done. How it could feel, how it could taste, how all-consuming and deeply addictive, kissing the right woman could possibly be.

He’d never cared much for kisses, with the handful of women who’d floated in and out of his radius through the years but with Kit… With Kit he was going to want to be doing this a hell of a lot more. Really and truly, right now he didn’t want to do much else for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, they were ten miles from the privacy of her place and they currently had three other people, including two members of his family, waiting for them downstairs.

As Michonne’s voice was raised at the foot of the stairs, asking how they were getting on up there, they reluctantly broke their kiss.

“Oh man, this is gon’ be painful.” Daryl whispered against her cheek, before shouting out to Michonne that they’d be down in a minute.

“Mmmm.” Kit agreed. “But I already bagsied a ride home with you. So that’ll be nice.” She crooned in his ear, with a naughty smile as she ran her hands lightly down his sides.

“Mmmm, yeah. Good call!”

“I love it when a plan comes together.” She smiled. Pulling back a little, Kit looked up into his face and seemed a little more serious. “I’m not sure I’m ready for the Spanish Inquisition.” She began with a frown, as she indicated the door.

“No one ever is apparently.” He joked and was delighted as she laughed in surprise at the reference.

“Ha, no, true… but can we not make it obvious for now, do you think?” She looked a little worried and rattled on to explain herself. “I’m not ashamed of us or anything, please don’t think that. I just, I’ve never been ‘with’ someone before and I want us to have some time to get used to being together first, before we announce it to the world or anything.” She suddenly seemed to doubt herself again. “I mean, if we are together…. If that’s what this is?”

Daryl stroked the back of her neck, softly and leaned in for one last reassuring kiss. “I ain’t ever had nothin’ like this either Sweetheart. Guess we’ll be learnin’ together.” He smiled and gave her one more ‘one last kiss’.

She laughed into the kiss and nodded back before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs, before Michonne came up to get them.

_______________

Every step down from the office was like some form of torture to Kit. She’d been reticent going up them because she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now that it had and she’d found the closest thing to heaven in amongst the dishevelled mess of an abandoned office, the idea of walking down into her mask again was not appealing. Finally knowing for sure that Daryl wanted her too. Finally feeling safe in his arms and receiving the kisses she’d craved, from the man she’d craved for three years. She’d felt free and open and truly happy for the first time she could remember. Now she’d have to put the shutters back up again for his family, until they had another chance for some privacy.

As she plastered on a neutral face for Michonne, she promised herself that the next chance she and Daryl had to be alone, there would be no interruptions and no letting go, until they were ready to do so – a concept she couldn’t quite get her head around right now. Michonne seemed not to notice any change in them so far and Kit was determined that no one would see any change until they were ready.

“You find anything up there?” She asked.

“Got our hands on what we wanted.” Daryl responded lightly, before Kit had a chance to reply. With an enviably straight face, he passed the two women at the foot of the stairs, grabbed a box of manuals from Carol and strode out to the truck.

“Mmmm.” Kit agreed, covering her embarrassed amusement a little by fiddling with the backpack, before producing one of the notebooks she’d found. “Got a few good leads in here I think. There may have been more but it’s a mess up there.”

“Great.” Carol took the notebook enthusiastically and started leafing through it.

“Any trouble up there?” Michonne asked.

“Just one, that we found. Like I said, it’s a mess, no trouble though.” Kit smiled and followed Daryl out to the truck.

_______________

The truck was loaded up already, with a tarp covering the equipment and Mike already perched in the driver’s seat. As the three women came out of the building he turned over the engine and Daryl, already sitting on his bike, waiting close to the door, gunned his into life too.

“You ready?” He asked, raising his voice a little to carry above the noise.

“Yep.” Kit responded, securing her backpack and shouldering his crossbow over the top. Balancing on the peg, a hand on Daryl’s shoulder to steady her, she swung her leg over the back and took her place behind him.

“We’ll see you back at Alexandria.” Carol called, as she and Michonne made their way to the truck.

“Don’t go too far ahead.” Michonne shouted as she climbed into the cab. “No triple A, remember.”

Daryl nodded back. “Hold on.” He said to Kit.

She tentatively put her arms around him. “You hold on to me, hard as you like ‘til you get used to it, a’right?”

“Don’t want to crush the life out of you.” She replied.

 “Ain’t no better way to go, I can think of.” He responded, squeezing her hand as he walked forward and let the bike take them.

He did a slow circuit of the parking lot next to the studio, allowing Kit to get comfortable and Mike to get the truck moving out in the right direction and then they were off. They probably never went over thirty-five the entire time but Kit felt like she was doing ninety. With the wind whipping her hair she couldn’t hear a thing and with Daryl’s hair trailing behind him, she had to lean slightly to one side or the other to see anything at all.

They were the least important senses right now though.  All she could really think about was her arms, wrapped around the man she’d actually honest-to-god dreamt of, more than a few times, over the past three years. She couldn’t decide what was most exciting, her first real bike ride or holding him close like this. She pressed her body as close as she could against his back, until there was nothing separating them but the fabric of their clothes and she just couldn’t get any closer if her life depended on it – which, at the moment, she supposed, it kind of did.

She’d relaxed her iron grip on him, almost immediately after they’d set off, knowing she was safe in his hands but couldn’t bring herself to unravel her arms a little and hold on to his sides instead. She needed to encompass as much of him as she could and her hands were enjoying getting to know him just a little too well.

As they came up to a junction a couple of miles out of town, Daryl brought the bike to a gentle stop and turned slightly in his seat. A strange look in his eye.

“We stopping to let them catch up?” Kit asked, with a quick look behind them.

“Yeah.” He answered. “And for this.” He leant back towards her and caught her in an awkwardly angled but no less welcome kiss.

“Mmmmh, that’s nice. How did I ever function without kissing breaks.” She laughed. “What brought that on?”

Daryl just smiled. “You’re drivin’ me crazy.” He said and indicated her hand, still wrapped around his torso. She hadn’t even realised she’d done it but somehow she’d worked a button free and had most of her hand buried under his shirt, directly on his chest.

“Oh god.” She exclaimed, embarrassed. “I didn’t even realise, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t even get half way through the sentence or the action of removing her hand, before Daryl stilled hers with his own. “Uh.. uh.” He scolded. “It’s an unconventional hold, I’ll grant ya but it works for me.” He smiled another dangerously sexy little smile and Kit sank into his lips again with a satisfied moan.

They broke apart a full minute later, as they both began to realise that the truck really should have caught up by now, or at least be within sight. Without a word they got back to business and Daryl turned the bike around in a wide arc. As they went back to find their friends, Kit resumed her full-body hold but was careful not to explore too much this time. The others may be in trouble and they both needed their heads in the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I'm afraid but hopefully sweet.


	43. Chapter 43

Arriving on the scene, it was pretty obvious what was going on. The truck was stopped in the middle of the road, with all three of its occupants and two newcomers fending off a pretty sizeable herd. The truck didn’t seem to be in any obvious trouble, no smoke or tell-tale leaning to one side or the other. This area had been clear when the bike rode past but for some reason the truck had just randomly come across the scene, moments later and stopped to help??

As Kit and Daryl drew nearer, a number of walkers began to split off from the main pack and make their shambling way towards the noisy, new arrivals. The two riders dismounted and joined the fray without a thought. Daryl took his bow from Kit, who’d had it safely strung across her own back and made a start, as they were still at a comfortable distance. He took one walker out quickly with the crossbow and then advanced, right behind Kit, who was already cutting a swathe with her dangerous knives.

There must have been sixty or so to start with, coming on thick and fast from the same direction. It had still been a sizeable crowd, of around forty or fifty, by the time Kit and Daryl arrived. Kit would never have attempted more than twenty on her own, for all the tea in china but something about Daryl’s family told her that this was manageable and that it was safe to go into this fight with them at her side.

She made a good start, hacking a path towards Carol, who was the furthest from the rest of the group and the most exposed. She knew Daryl would have her back and she wanted to ensure that she had Carol’s if she got into trouble. She heard, rather than saw, the others around her through the next few minutes. A grunt from Daryl, somewhere over to her right now. A call from Michonne, to warn Mike about one still biting on the ground near him. They all worked tirelessly and more importantly, as a team, covering each other and working through the sheer numbers, until the very last walker fell lifelessly to the ground and they all had a chance to breathe.

As they took stock, Kit and Daryl realised why the others had stopped. The newcomers were Jesus and Clara’s boyfriend Alex. Checking with each other briefly and discreetly, they joined the main group to see what the story was.

“Kit?” Jesus said, disbelievingly on their approach. “You’re a long way from your usual stomping grounds?” He added, looking around the assembled Alexandrians. His eye finally moved between Kit herself and Daryl, who was eyeing him back warily. He looked them both up and down quickly and something clicked behind Jesus’ smile. He changed the subject and his focus of attention.

Turning to Carol, Michonne and Mike he nodded his head in thanks. “We’re so glad we bumped into you guys. Thanks for the help. We were just about staying ahead of them but it’s a long way to Alexandria on foot.”

“And I never was much of a runner.” Alex added gratefully, still catching his breath, with his hands on his hips.

“Well, we didn’t have much choice in stopping.” Michonne answered. “You did run in front of the truck.” She pointed out but she added a good natured smile, wiping off her blade on a nearby body.

“What are you doing out here, trying to reach Alexandria on foot anyway?” Carol asked, less good naturedly, yanking her knife from a particularly stubborn skull, with the aid of Kit’s boot to hold it steady. She was getting better at mellowing out these days but was still quick to enter her Carolinator mode, whenever the world presented its next serving of shit.

“Didn’t set out that way.” Jesus put in.

“We came across a pretty big herd.” Alex indicated the bodies all around them. “A couple miles back.” He thumbed in the direction of the damned warehouse and Mike, Michonne and Daryl rolled their eyes at each other.

“The lead car got in trouble and we had to all run for cover.” Jesus continued.

“The other vehicle was fine but the three in the lead car couldn’t get to us safely, so we all went for the house but then we were stuck.” Alex explained. “Jesus was gonna draw them off on his own but I figured they’d need more than just his skinny ass as bait, so I went too. I think we drew most of them after us?” He looked questioningly at Jesus.

“Yeah, at least two thirds I’d say.” He confirmed. “The others will have been able to get through them and back to the car I reckon, they’re probably on their way by now. Taking the direct route though. They won’t follow us this way.”

The group all looked at each other but there weren't any other real options.

“Guess you’re on the back then.” Mike indicated the truck behind him. “If you can find room.”

“Don’t break nuthin’” Daryl added and tapped Kit’s elbow as he turned back towards the bike.

“See you back there then.” Kit said to everyone and followed, leaving the little knot of people to work out where to squeeze the two newcomers.

“Hey Daryl!” Michonne called after him. “Stay in sight this time huh?”

He nodded his head and waved his arm in acknowledgment. “Triple A.” He replied. “Got it.”

Kit and Daryl resumed their places on the bike and waited for the others to get settled and ready to roll out. With their backs to the group though, no one could see how Kit already clung to Daryl, despite the heat of the day and the bike being stock still. No one saw him caressing her arm across his chest, or rubbing her knee as it brushed against his leg. No one heard the soft exchange they spoke between them, each making sure the other was unhurt. Each thankful that their route from Garvey two days earlier had brought them in from a different path than the Hilltoppers had chosen today.

Back at the truck, Michonne gave up her seat in the cab to ride on the truck with Jesus. Alex was a big guy but not in the best of conditions after the long run. No one wanted to lose any of the equipment back here to a misplaced butt and there really just wasn’t room for those on the truck bed to actually sit anyway. She and Jesus squeezed on, right behind the cab and stood perched against it. It would be an uncomfortable ride home and a slower ride back than it had been out this morning but they’d all get back in one piece and that was the main thing.

“So…” Jesus said, keeping his voice low, while the other three were getting situated in the cab. Michonne raised an eyebrow and waited. “Kit and Daryl then!?”

Michonne laughed. “You don’t miss much.”

“Well, I thought there was something weird the first time I saw them together, last week.” He said. “Daryl playing nice with a perfect stranger, less than an hour after meeting her? Kit showing herself to a random stranger, without good reason, especially one as rough looking as he was at the time?.... Didn’t sit right but I didn’t have much time to analyse it.” He shook his head. “Kit and Daryl.”

“They knew each other briefly before.” Michonne supplied. Jesus nodded, that made more sense. “Seem to fit together nicely.” She added.

“Yeah.” He said, thoughtfully. “Thinking about it, I guess they would.”

“Been making puppy dog eyes at each other since they arrived at the gate together three days ago but we don’t think they’ve done anything about it yet.”

“Well his half unbuttoned shirt says otherwise.” Jesus smiled.

“Really? I didn’t notice!” Michonne exclaimed, shooting a look at the couple in question, as the truck jerked into motion beneath them.

“The top two buttons were firmly in place but the second two….” Jesus laughed, raising his voice to be heard. “Well, I suppose that’s just where you’d hold on if you were a passenger on a bike.”

“Not usually and I wouldn’t recommend YOU try it, if you value your hands.” Michonne laughed back. “Trust you to be looking that closely.”

“I’m only human.” Jesus smiled back at her. “Gotta say, if I’d known the key to Kit’s heart was ‘eau de motor oil’, greasy hair and a good bow arm, I might have tried that tack myself when I was trying to tempt her to Hilltop. She is definitely a major acquisition for you guys.”

“Hah, yeah I’m definitely getting that vibe!” Michonne replied. “You never stood a chance though. You could throw all the rednecks in the trailer park at Kit; there’s only one Daryl Dixon and he’s ours.” She winked for emphasis.

Jesus laughed and nodded his agreement. “My god let’s hope so!”

They were getting up to speed now and conversation would not be possible for the rest of the journey but both of them passed the time watching the road and brush around them for possible hazards and the bike up ahead; where two heads of chestnut hair seemed to meld into one.

______________

Back in Alexandria there was a flurry of activity as they arrived at the gates. The other three from Hilltop had arrived just a few minutes ahead of them and everyone was relieved to see the HAM collection team returning, with two passengers among their number. As the truck came to a halt, Rick was there to help Michonne down and hold her close in a brief but tight, relieved, hug.

Doors slammed and a group began to form to talk about what had happened and what needed to happen next. As Daryl rolled the bike to a stop, on the far side of the truck, he realised that he’d be called upon to join that group, make some decisions. Then next he was sure he’d be roped in, either to help unload the equipment, or find a vehicle to replace the one Hilltop had lost. He hung his head as the bike halted and squeezed Kit’s hand, still there, on top of his shirt but just under his aching heart.

He wanted nothing more than to leave all of this behind, take her hand and hold it all the way back to her place. He didn’t even care what happened after that. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to wanting to taste those sweet lips of hers again and his arms could certainly stand to hold her, just as they had back at the studio office but beyond that he had no ambition. He just wanted to be alone in a room with her and without interruptions.

He felt Kit swing off the back and turned in his seat to look at her. No one was looking their way right now. They would, soon but for a few seconds it was just them. She stood at his side and returned his frustrated, resigned look.

“You’d better get around there before they miss you.” She indicated the other side of the truck with her thumb. “I’ll go and catch Maggie up with what’s happened, they’re her people after all.” She stepped closer and lowered her register slightly, reaching down to fasten the buttons on his shirt. “I’ll see you later?” She asked, catching his eye with a shy little smile.

“You just try and stop me.” Daryl answered, as she completed her task. “Next time I’m alone in a room with you, I don’t plan on allowing anythin’ to cut us short.”

She moved to the front of the truck, almost skipping and visibly as happy as Daryl had ever seen her. Beautiful, in every possible way.

“Promise?” She mouthed.

“Promise!” He smiled back, as he dismounted himself. He watched her catch her bottom lip girlishly, as she grinned in response to his vow and with a nod and a tap on the truck she was gone. He heard her call to the group that she’d go find Maggie and let her know what was happening. He heard Jesus say he’d join her and as he rounded the truck himself he heard Rick confirm her assumption that Maggie was resting at the house, as she had yesterday during the hottest part of the day.

As he finally, reluctantly, joined Rick and the rest, Daryl looked up briefly to catch a last glimpse of her and Jesus, disappearing between the houses. He wouldn’t lay eyes on her again for another three hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, as always - thanks for reading.  
> I could do with some feedback for upcoming chapters please. We're about to start having some Daryl and Kit alone-time and I wanted to see what level of detail people think is appropriate for the story/characters.   
> In the original, I did touch on their sex life but I wasn't particularly graphic and the slightly more graphic stuff was restricted just to a couple of chapters.  
> I just want to gauge whether people want a bit more from this version? I'd gone on the assumption that that would be the case and I'm prepared to have a go at something a bit more detailed - a 'blow by blow' if you will (oh dear *shakes head at self*). However, I don't want to assume,so...???
> 
> Aaaaaand - discuss.


	44. Chapter 44

“We’re going this way Paul.” She told him, as she cut between two of the houses near the gate.

He smiled after her as he followed. He always introduced himself the same way to everyone. Full name and the offer to use his nickname if they preferred. Everyone used the nickname. Everyone but Kit. He’d asked her why once and she’d said if he didn’t want anyone to call him by his real name he wouldn’t introduce himself as Paul first and ‘Jesus’ second. He supposed she was right. It was nice to hear the name his mother had used sometimes.

He had first run into Kit and the dog two or three months ago now, not long after Negan’s reign had fallen and the surrounding area had suddenly become a little safer for a lone female. A little!

He’d been cautious and approached her stealthily but he needn’t have bothered. The dog had been shadowing his movements as he’d shadowed hers. As he made himself known to Kit, she’d seemed totally unsurprised and he found out why, when she nodded behind him and he turned to see the dog on a nearby dumpster, teeth bared, ready to pounce at her command.

No one snuck up on Kit and that dog. He’d thought he was approaching her but that was her way of approaching him. Who knew when he’d first been spotted or for how long she’d shadowed his every move before deciding it was time for a first meeting.

He’d been impressed by Kit from the first. He’d offered her a home at Hilltop, right then and there. She’d refused, of course. He’d thought she was a little crazy at the start but it had slowly dawned on him, during the ensuing trade visits she made and meetings outside the gates, that she was actually just completely self-sufficient and a little wary of big group dynamics. She was so capable on her own and so completely un-interested in stupid humans and their politics and dramas. She was a loner, pure and simple.

It had been no accident that she’d wandered into this area after Negan’s fall. She must have been a fucking super-spy or something in her previous life. Paul was certain she hadn’t set foot anywhere visible EVER, since the world fell to the dead, without checking the entire vicinity out thoroughly in advance. After the first few encounters with Kit, he’d definitely stopped worrying so much for her and started worrying a little more for any stupid assholes that tried to take her on. He’d still made the offer, at every available opportunity but never really expected she’d take it.

When Clara and Wendy had been returned to them on the road to Garvey, with their tale of Daryl and Kit’s ‘daring do’, the part that had most surprised him was that the two of them had not only been working as an effective team but that Kit had used Daryl’s bow and Daryl had used Kit’s assault rifle. They had trusted each other enough, on first meeting, to switch weapons. The girls had had no idea of the significance of the information but knowing the reserved natures of both involved, it had been mind-blowing to him.

Kit knew about all of the main players from Alexandria, he had been the one to tell her about them. He’d fleetingly worried that he might be giving her to the competition, at the time. It wasn’t just Hilltop she shunned though, she didn’t seem like she was looking for any kind of group and none of the other nearby communities seemed to interest her much. Although she had found the concept of a monarch, with a pet tiger very amusing – “How very Vegas!” had been her comment.

He’d always understood that she just needed as much reliable information about people she might run into as she could get, that was all. She’d always been happy to return the favour, whenever there was information or intel about other groups or foraging opportunities that might be of interest to Hilltop. He’d never balked at giving her the background information she might need, about people she might come across in the area. It was just common courtesy these days.

From what Ryan and Adam had said, it had seemed like they’d left Daryl completely alone in his pursuit of the girls though and neither Kit, nor the Alexandrians had ever made any mention of knowing each other. So Kit and Daryl doing a ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ job on the assholes that kidnapped the girls TOGETHER, less than an hour after the girls had been taken, had seemed rather a stretch. Especially for the two people he knew who were least likely to randomly team up with a stranger.

It had been just over a week since that day in Garvey and here she was, also the person least likely to be found in a big community like this. Jesus had to wonder how Daryl had charmed her into accepting an offer to join Alexandria. The word ‘Charm’ and Daryl Dixon did not usually belong in the same zipcode, never mind sentence. He might attract a few ‘fans’ unconsciously, just by being his own introverted, quirky, mysterious self but Daryl couldn’t intentionally charm his way out of a paper bag.

He and Kit obviously had the hots for each other. Even if the buttons on Daryl’s shirt had been innocent (which he doubted), Michonne had confirmed that Daryl’s family suspected the same thing. If nothing else, the mere fact that she’d come back here with him in the first place meant there was SOMETHING going on between them, at least on her side. He hoped there was. He’d thought about it all the way here. Michonne was right, he couldn’t think of any two people who might be a better fit than these two, once they got going. He just couldn’t quite imagine either of them letting their guards down long enough to allow that to happen.

As soon as they were alone and out of earshot, on their way to see Maggie, he figured it was best to just brazen it out. “Are you happy here?” He asked. “Are you happy with him?”

She had expected him to ask her about staying with the Alexandrians, how could she not but he could see that she hadn’t expected that question. Hadn’t expected him to understand why she was happy to stay with this group, when she’d refused so many offers to join his. She didn’t know how to answer. She’d slowed her pace and her features had frozen solid. He could see she was barely breathing.

“I know you can’t really think that no one … that I wouldn’t notice?” He tried to make eye contact to reassure her that this was still a friendly chat. “He’s a good man, Daryl.” He stated, giving up on eye contact. “I’d never have pegged him for much of a romantic but I’d never have pegged you for one either.” She shot him a quick sideways glance at that. “I’m happy for you Kit. For both of you. When the world turns to shit, everyone needs something to cling to. I hope you’re happy. You deserve to be. Both of you.”

She looked him in the eye tentatively. “We’re not…. Well, we are but… we haven’t been…. I mean…” She struggled on. “It’s early days, we haven’t had five minutes alone together yet… We’re just starting… I think.“ Her voice was small, a whisper really. He nodded, encouragingly. “I knew him before and we were separated before anything got started then.” Paul continued sympathetically nodding her along. “We’ve waited so long for a second chance. I’ve never had anything like this before Paul.” He smiled at her.

After knowing her only as a stone cold badass for so long, he had to marvel at this sudden vulnerability. At her inability to lie. At her obvious difficulty, in trying to navigate a burgeoning relationship, with an avid audience watching their every move. She deserved this, she’d never had it and she deserved it all. They both did. He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved happiness more than these two, seemingly closed off individuals, who took no bullshit and had no real concept of their own worth. “I’m so lucky to’ve found him again.”

“You’re both lucky. It’s a beautiful thing that you found each other Kit. I’m so glad for you both.” He risked a comforting arm around her shoulder as they walked and was both pleased and surprised when she failed to shake him off. She accepted his comfort and his blessing and he was suitably honoured as she put her arm around him and loosely hugged him back.

They’d walked up the porch steps together and found Enid in the kitchen making coffee and Maggie resting in the lounge. She’d been surprised by his presence and relieved that everyone had made it from Hilltop, after his brief description of their troubles on the road and miraculous rescue ‘on the run’. She’d smiled at Kit with real warmth and gratitude, as she heard the tale. It felt odd but Kit found herself accepting that look, not quite as awkwardly as she would have on her own account. Bizarrely, she knew that in this instant she was standing as representative for the whole group and she was surprised to feel strangely comfortable with that.

Paul’s biggest news for Maggie though, was that there had been no new cases of the dreaded bug in the past twenty-four hours and that everyone who’d had it so far, had survived and recovered enough to take fluids and start eating again within twenty-four to thirty hours. Roughly half of the population had fallen foul, to the same extent Kit had, or worse but the other half had remained totally unaffected. His worry was that the ‘unaffected’ might be carriers though, so he’d only brought those who’d been minimally exposed, or had already been through it and were out the other side, just to be safe.

“So you had it then?” Kit responded, knowing that there was no way he’d quarantined himself from the sick when they would have needed him most. She knew he wasn’t naturally a leader but he lived for Hilltop, they were his people now, his family, his responsibility. Kit had always had the feeling that Paul had been a ‘runner’ before but this world had taught him how to ‘stick’, in a way she’d never imagined it would for her. In a way she probably never would have considered starting to do here, without Daryl, to sweeten the deal.

He nodded, with a small laugh. “Oh yeah.” He looked over at Maggie, shaking his head. “I was one of the first to fall apart.” Turning back to Kit he continued. “The day after I last saw you.”

“Suppose we both got it from Wendy’s dad then.” Kit replied.

“You got it too?” Paul asked.

“Yeah, Daryl nursed her through it and it never touched him, so I guess that’s our answer.” Maggie replied for Kit, with a little satisfied smile at Jesus’ shock.

“Ummm, so he was there the whole time you were sick?” He asked, knowing from personal experience just how much of a mess this particular bug made you.

Kit avoided his eyes. “Yep. Sole carer, right the way through. Well, the dog helped out too, she’s a great hot water bottle but he was there in the same house, same room most of the time. He’s fine and no one here has caught it since we got here.”

“Great!” Paul replied. “Well I guess that means I can hug you both then.” He said, moving to wrap his arms around Edith first. “And I guess it means you can all come home with us if you want?”

“David, Maureen and Emily will be glad to go home I’m sure.” Maggie beamed at them both.

Kit thought she caught a little glimmer of disappointment on Edith’s face and was pretty sure she wasn’t as keen as the more elderly members of the Hilltop community, who’d escaped to quarantine here with them. She felt for the girl, if Maggie decided to leave tomorrow. If she and Carl felt even one percent for each other, what Kit felt for Daryl, it was going to be hard for them to say goodbye.

_________________

As predicted, Daryl spent his afternoon hoofing equipment into a store house, for Mike to pick through and figure out. He did what he could to help hook some of it up but Mike seemed to have it covered. Along with a couple of other Alexandrians and Carol, who had an investment in getting a working set up and running before she left for the Kingdom, he left them to it.

Rick had set him the challenge of fixing up an old mini-van that needed a little TLC before the Hilltoppers could take it. Carol had dibs on their spare hatch-back but that needed checking over too. There was nothing major to do, thank god because he wasn’t up to the concentration needed for anything big. A couple of hours should do it. He rolled up his sleeves and got started back at the carpool area.


	45. Chapter 45

“Hey!” Rick greeted as he made his way towards the mini-van. “Daryl?”

“Back here.” He called, from under the offside back wheel arch.

Rick prided himself that he knew what did what, under the hood and that he’d always done his own oil changes but that was the extent of his mechanical prowess. He had no idea what Daryl was doing. Maybe something with the breaks?? Whatever. He seemed to know and he’d never put Maggie in a car he wasn’t sure about, so that was all that mattered.

“You nearly done?”

“Yeah. Just gotta test the breaks after this.” Rick silently congratulated himself.

“Carol’s car already checked over?”

“Yeah. Joe came over and helped for a bit, scrounged up some parts. Hers is good as new. This one…” He pulled himself out from under the car and rose to stand beside Rick, wiping his hands absentmindedly as he looked over the vehicle. “Well, it ain’t exactly perfect. It’ll get ‘em home and it’s safe enough. They just need to go steady. No over-revvin’ and it should hold up.”

Rick nodded. He’d given Daryl a pretty impossible task and he knew it, a vehicle that would hold up for the journey back to Hilltop was more than good enough under the circumstances. Their actual mechanic, Brian, was currently out on a long run. He’d be gone for another week probably. Maggie couldn’t wait that long to get back to her people. Daryl was the next best thing. No training  but a shit-tonne of experience. Rick doubted that any vehicle he or his brother had ever owned had ever seen the inside of a legit mechanic’s workshop.

Rick slapped Daryl on the back. “That’s all we could ask man.” He said with a warm smile. “Thanks.”

Daryl did his little embarrassed shrugging head-jiggle, that was all he could manage in response to genuine praise and moved away to the driver’s door.

“When you’re done and cleaned up a bit, head on over to the quarantine house, we're having a barbecue. Maggie’s people brought a goat with ‘em.” Rick laughed at Daryl’s startled look back at his words. “I know!” He said. “They said it was some kind of accident yesterday but no one there is ready for anything as rich as goat yet and their freezers are full, so they figured they’d bring it here to thank us for looking after Maggie and the others.”

“Is it safe?” Daryl asked warily.

Rick nodded, he understood the concern, he’d worried about it himself. “Yeah, none of the animals have been affected by the bug and the guy that butchered it was one of those unaffected too. They WERE concerned that maybe the unaffected could be carriers but..” He pointed at Daryl “You’ve ably proved that that isn’t the case so…”

Daryl hadn’t even considered it. Hadn’t imagined for a second that he might be carrying sickness back here with him when he came home with Kit. He was horrified now at the risk he’d unwittingly taken and Rick saw it written all over his face. “Shit… Rick, I never even…”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” Rick risked patting the other man’s arm and was glad when he wasn’t shrugged off. “We’re all OK and you’re home. It all worked out and now we know what’s a danger and what isn’t.” He thought about it for a second. “Well, hopefully anyway.”

Daryl nodded, still guilty but somewhat placated.

“So anyway, we’re having a Thank-You-slash-Goodbye party.” He smiled at Daryl’s discomfort, he wasn’t a ‘party’ guy and didn’t want to spend an entire evening surrounded by people. Rick also guessed that he knew SHE wouldn’t either and was torn between saying a proper farewell to two of his closest family and spending any time with the new woman in his life.

“I know, I know a big party ain’t your thing.” Daryl grunted and returned to what he was doing. “This afternoon it’ll just be us, just family and the rest of town are joining us later. There’s plenty of goat to go around and Maggie, Enid and Kit are whipping up a storm of salad and slaw as we speak.” THAT got Daryl’s attention.

“Kit?” He asked.

“Yeah, well she isn’t exactly family yet but you knew her before and I doubt she’d be up for a big party either, so Michonne figured she should be invited early. She can slope off whenever she’s ready then and so can you.”  Rick did his best not to smirk suggestively, although every cell in his body ached to.

“She’ll appreciate that.” Daryl responded, still unwilling to drop his guard. Rick sighed inwardly but carried on regardless. He turned and took a few steps, as though he was leaving, before turning with a dramatic flourish, as if something had just this second occurred to him. Daryl raised his head warily.

“Oh, there was something else I wanted your opinion on. About Kit.” Rick mused, hanging on the open driver’s door.

“Yeah?”

“I think it was a lot to ask, you know, someone who’s been on their own so long, expecting her to be surrounded by people right away. It must have been pretty stressful for her, the past couple days.” Daryl didn’t argue and Rick felt a pang of guilt that this was just a ruse they’d fabricated but that it was, in fact, based entirely on truth.

“So, I think we’ll give her a week to bed in, you know, get used to the place and the people on her own schedule, try things out when she wants to and find her place. Before we start rostering her on for guard duty or finding her specific jobs. You think that’s a good idea?”

“Yep.” Daryl responded enthusiastically. He’d popped the hood and hidden his head under it, so Rick couldn’t make out his expression but he was definitely on board with the plan.

“Good. ‘Cos we were thinking that she’d need someone to be a kind of buddy, a guide, you know, escort her around, properly show her the ropes, help her figure out her place, that kind of thing.” Daryl had been tightening something with a wrench, the turns halted as Rick had spoken and then resumed at a much slower pace, as he grunted in response to Rick’s words.

“And I figured, she knows you best and you have similar interests and you’ve done more than your fair share around here for way too long without a break, so…” The wrenching stopped again, Rick smiled and continued. “I was thinking maybe you could think of it as a holiday, take a few days off yourself and help Kit, you know, bed in.” He allowed himself a smirk this time. It couldn’t hurt, Daryl couldn’t see him anyway.

“A few days?” Daryl asked, with a catch in his throat.

“Yeah, four or five, the full week if you want, if you think she needs it. We’ll take you off guard duty and you can set your own timetable for a week. I mean, barring emergencies of course.”

“’course.” Daryl responded, slamming down the hood and eyeing Rick warily as he wiped his hands on the rag again.

“You’ll want to see Carol, Maggie and the others off tomorrow I expect but beyond that, you two just do what you want for a week. It’s not like you’re not gonna be productive anyway. I bet you’ll get a hunt or two in there somewhere between you? Right?” Rick smacked Daryl’s arm as he passed. This time he was genuinely leaving, mission accomplished.

“Right.” Daryl responded, a little shell shocked.

“I’ll leave it to you to tell her, when you’re ready.” Rick called behind him. “Don’t be too long.”

Daryl sat down hard on the footplate of the mini-van’s side door. The van was fine. He’d test the breaks quickly but it was fine. He looked down at his filthy arms and hands. He definitely wanted a shower, a shit and a shave before he told Kit that she was stuck with his scruffy ass for the next few days. He broke out in a big broad grin and teared up at the thought of it. And he knew that cleaning himself up would be for him, not her. She wouldn’t care what state he was in. He’d said it to Michonne two days ago. He’d known it was the truth even then. 

______________

Kit smiled as she spooned out a generous helping of coleslaw onto Michonne’s plate. “Smells good.” She said, with a nod to the barbecue.

“Mmmm, yeah. I love goat. I’m gonna be up here for seconds and thirds tonight I think.” The two women laughed lightly together and Kit felt like she was going to get along with Michonne. Of all the women of Daryl’s family, she felt like Michonne was the closest to her own temprament and her own outlook on the world. She was also the one she’d be stuck with most, here in Alexandria, so she guessed it was a good thing they got along.

She continued to spoon helping after helping, until all of the family were catered for and had dotted themselves around the garden. She helped herself to a plate, along with Edith and Carl, who had been helping to serve and headed out to find a spot herself.

The dog padded back and forth between the people, happily receiving scraps from those who offered but Kit was pleased and proud to see that she wasn’t begging. She’d already been given a generous helping, whenever a strip of meat had made its way to the floor, instead of the grill. Carl had ‘fumbled’ a couple of times ‘accidentally’, so the dog was definitely not going to starve.

She’d pretty much given up on seeing Daryl here. Rick had arrived, to start the barbecue up, over an hour ago. He’d loudly announced that Daryl would be along when he’d finished up with the cars and cleaned himself up a little. Everyone had expected him to turn up any minute but Kit figured he didn’t trust himself to be able to remain neutral, surrounded by so many of his nearest and dearest. She felt terrible. She’d insisted that they should keep their new status private until they had a chance to get used to it themselves and now she’d caused him to miss Carol and Maggie’s leaving dinner.

She was determined to be polite, eat with the family and say her own goodbyes and then slope off to find Daryl and tell him he could join them and just come and find her at her place when he was ready. She’d been distracted by falteringly trying to remember details about the vertical gardens for Enid, who was full of questions, when she noticed both Enid and Tara’s expressions change as they noticed something behind her. Kit turned to see Maggie and Carol hurriedly swamping Daryl in a group hug. She could see why the girls had looked so shocked. Daryl’s ‘cleaning up’ had been pretty thorough apparently.

Her heart would have skipped in her chest at the sight of him, if he’d turned up covered head to toe in grease and diesel oil. She was just so glad that he’d come at all but she had to admit he scrubbed up damn well. He’d picked out a clean white short sleeved shirt, clean black jeans and his biker boots. His hair was freshly washed and dried and reflected a few redish highlights, now that it wasn’t matted down to its dullest dark brown, by sweat, dust and grease. He’d even shaved.

“Wow!” Tara gave voice to Kit’s own thoughts. “Daryl scrubs up fuckin’ handsome.” She exclaimed, quite loudly and apparently without applying her filter.

“Tara!!” Enid laughed, shoving the woman playfully.

“What?” She said, looking around the small group. “We were all thinking it. Right?” She said, looking to Carl for back up. “Right?” She looked to Jesus, who was sitting nearby. She turned back and seemed about to address Kit too but something in the other woman’s face stopped her.

Enid jumped in. “Shhh, or he’ll hear you.” She whispered sharply. “You know he’d die of embarrassment if he heard you say something like that in front of everyone.”

Tara nodded back, suitably chastised. She continued to surreptitiously scan the older woman’s features though. Kit had had her fair share of barbecued goat but that woman looked hungry. As Tara watched her gaze fall on Daryl again, she figured it wasn’t the plate in his hand she was lusting after. Enid, Carl, Tara and Jesus all caught each other’s looks in turn and each of them smiled at their telepathic exchange, as Kit struggled to tear her eyes away from Daryl.

Daryl never joined Kit’s group. He spent most of his time with Carol and Maggie, either together or separately. Kit understood. He needed to spend quality time with them now. Kit knew that the plan was for the rest of Alexandria to join the party this evening, he only had an hour or so before the hoards descended on them and he wanted to give his family their due.

She caught his eye, once or twice throughout that hour. Each time, the warmth behind his eyes and the crooked smile on his lips, told her that he knew she wouldn’t be staying for the party and that he wasn’t going to either. This was quality family time before he got his excuse to escape, probably right after she did.

As she said her own goodbyes that evening and made her way, against the oncoming Alexandrians, toward her own little bolt-hole; Kit knew she could expect a knock on her door very shortly and she couldn’t wait for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning that I might be late posting the next one. I don't have a lot of time to write this week and as it's finally getting towards 'sexy-time' I'd like to get the next one right. I hope that doesn't drive anyone too mental and as always, thanks for reading.


	46. Chapter 46

Kit curled her fingers through a long strand of fine chestnut hair, that was not her own and sighed happily into another long, deep, languorous kiss. As Daryl requested entry, with a subtle sweep of his tongue on her bottom lip, she parted them welcomingly and fully intended not to close them again for long, long minutes, maybe hours.

She’d worried, briefly at the length of time he’d taken to join her at the house, after the barbecue. She’d had time to clean herself up and change. He’d obviously made an effort, so it was the least she could do to make herself presentable too. She needn’t have worried.

He’d arrived, with a knock at her door, a bottle of chilled champagne in one hand and a six pack of beers in the other. The cheeky smile on his face, as he offered the gifts, had reduced her to mush instantly. She’d laughed, giggling at the in-joke like a school girl, as she took the booze from him. She could see instantly, that the achievement of making her smile with joy was all that he’d hoped for, which just made her smile all the more.

As she’d poured their first glasses of fizz, using mugs from her little kitchenette, Daryl had rushed to put her at ease. He’d made his intentions very clear.

“This ain’t to butter ya up for nothin’, just so you know.” He began, indicating his gifts. “Don’t want ya thinkin’ I’m expectin’ nothing’ from ya.” He averted his gaze as she looked up at his words. “Just wanna be here with ya. That’s all.” He finished with a shrug.

She smiled shyly and handed him his mug. Clashing them together, she decided on a toast. “To us.” She said. “Alone at last.”

He returned her smile joyfully. “I’ll drink to that.” And he had.

Daryl may have had nothing but pure intentions, although Kit suspected he would have been at least a little put out to have been sent home without a goodnight kiss at least. She appreciated his raising the issue and trying to allay any worries she may have about his expectations. She knew it was the closest he was going to get to broaching the subject of her previous history. Her intentions however, were anything but chaste.

As much as she knew she wasn’t yet quite ready for sex. She had already decided, just by allowing her feelings to lead her this far at all, that she soon would be. She’d made her choice the first time she’d smiled at him with anything but friendship on her mind. She would be giving herself up, at sometime or other, to Daryl Dixon’s tender mercies. Sex was going to be on the menu. Now she just needed to settle her own butterflies and take charge of the pace.

She knew, before he’d said so, that Daryl would not overstep. He’d go just as far as she’d let him and no further. She’d already seen the effect that, even an incorrectly perceived, over reaching of her barriers had caused in him. He would never forgive himself if he really hurt her in any way. Even if she forgave him, she knew he never could get past it, or get over it.

Tonight, Kit was ready for kisses and caressing hands. She was ready to hold him close and feel herself held in return. She was ready to lean into their shared passion and learn how best to please him. She’d initiated the first kisses herself. He’d just got through telling her about his conversation with Rick and offering himself as her personal escort for the next few days, as they’d drained the last of their mugs.

The idea of having him to herself, with no questions asked, for the next few days was more than she could handle. This was a lottery win, plain and simple. She’d grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss then and there. Then she’d playfully dragged him to the sofa. Their champagne forgotten, she’d kissed him again and pushed him back onto the sofa, before climbing on herself and curling up at his side, leg draped over his lap.

Releasing him from another passionate kiss, she looked at him with sudden seriousness. “Sorry.” She said. “Is this OK?” Pressing her itching fingers to his chest, with eyes darting between his and his lips.

“Hell yeah it’s OK.” He responded enthusiastically, wrapping his arm around to pull her against his body and pressing his lips back against hers. They literally made out, like a pair of horny teenagers, for the next half-hour. Laid out on the couch, entangled in each other’s limbs, bodies pressed together, lips barely apart to catch a breath.

Eventually their kisses became lighter and periods of eye contact, in between, stretched on longer. Kit felt it was time to address the elephant in the room. She realised Daryl would never say a word more about it, if it was left up to him to initiate the conversation again. He wasn’t going to push her but she knew that a lack of clarity would eat away at them both, just as it had before.

“Daryl?” She began, fiddling with the top button of his shirt as she spoke.

“Mmmmh?” He responded, hazily returning from a brief foray on her neck and trying to focus on her face instead of her lips. Seeing the serious turn of her expression, he began to worry. “What? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to reassure him. “Nothing…. I just…. I think we should talk.”

“OK.” He said, warily. Still obviously worried by her tone, he leant back to give her more space and his full attention.

“I umm,” She began uncertainly, faltering as she struggled to say what needed to be said. “This… us…. This is what I want and I just wanted to be clear about that, so we’re on the same page.” Daryl nodded, somewhat relieved but sensing that there was more.

“I just,.. it’s just, as far as I think I can go for now… You know?”

She looked up into his eyes shyly, trying to gauge if this was too much to ask; to throw the breaks on now. He seemed to be waiting for more but when he realised she’d finished he just smiled.

“That’s fine by me sweetheart.”

He ran a gentle hand across her cheek and as he leaned forward to claim another kiss, Kit used every ounce of willpower in her body to stop him.

“Is it?” She asked. “I mean, I can’t claim to know much about men but I think most guys would think they’d waited long enough.”

“Guess I ain’t most guys then.” He shot back immediately. Realising she needed more than a quick response, he went on, trying to be clear and honest. “Ain’t waitin’ neither.” He added, stroking her cheek again reassuringly. “I’m getting’ what I need right now. Got the woman I’ve wanted, the woman I bin thinkin’ about for three years, right here in my arms where she belongs. Get to hold her close, get to kiss her sweet mouth, get to listen to her talkin’ soft to me like I’m somethin’, like I mean somethin’ to her. That’s all I need.”

Kit smiled. “For now.”

“Nah, sweetheart.” Daryl insisted, holding her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes. Defying her to find an ounce of dishonesty there. “That’s all I need ever!” He emphasised. “Don’t get me wrong, I want more and if you’re ever inclined to give it, you just let me know but I got everythin’ I NEED right here, right now.”

Looking into those clear, deep blue eyes she knew he couldn’t help but tell the truth. It just wasn’t in him to lie to her about this. He meant every word and her heart ached at the thought. She’d never been much of a crier but she felt the prickle of tears, tugging at the corners of her eyes.

“No.” She announced, determinedly shaking her head. “It IS just for now… I want more too and it won’t be long before I’m ready. Definitely not going to be measuring our next wait in years, I promise.” She watched him shrug slightly, in a gesture that seemed to scream “whatever you say, it's all fine by me.”

He leaned in again to claim his, much delayed, kiss and this time she let him have it. By now they were both deeply in need of it.

As their next long languorous exploration came to a natural pause for breath, Kit pulled away a little, with another serious sounding “Daryl?” His heart sank a little, to be parted from the lips he craved again but she obviously needed to get things cleared up. He guessed she was right, it was for the best and he found it a little easier to concentrate this time at least.

“I want to ask you something.” She began. He nodded encouragingly. “Only, it’s probably difficult and I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation. So… you have to promise me you’d say… You mustn’t say yes if it’ll be difficult for you.”

Daryl had no idea what the hell she could be about to ask for but he was pretty sure he’d be happy to walk through the fires of hell, with a smile on his face and a spring in his step if she wanted him to, so it didn’t really matter.

“What is it?” He asked, absentmindedly stroking her arm as it lay draped across his chest.

“I… well, I haven’t slept much since I got here… I’ve missed you and… I”

“Wait!” He cut her off mid-sentence. “You gonna ask me to sleep here with ya?” He asked. When she nodded, somewhat uncertainly in response, he went on. “Out here?... or in your bed, with you?” Her blush told him the answer to that one and he broke out in another cheeky smile. “Damn woman, that ain’t no trial. That’s like ma birthday or Christmas or somethin’. Like every birthday and every Christmas so far, rolled together, times a thousand, matter of fact.” He said, enthusiastically.

The look of relief on her face was priceless and Daryl wondered how long she’d been thinking of asking him about this. “Are you sure?” She asked. Which just made him laugh.

“Yeah I’m sure.” He said. “Ain’t had a wink myself these last couple nights…. Missin’ the hell outa you.”

“Really? I mean, I know it can be tricky for guys. I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.” Her eyes darted briefly downwards and Daryl finally caught onto what she was getting at.

“Oh, hmmm.” He rumbled slightly, shifting his position self-consciously as he went on. “Well, I ain’t gonna lie. Bin pretty ‘difficult’ the last couple mornings… since that night in the closet, truth be told. But that’s just biology, don’t mean I expect nothin’, don’t mean we gotta do nothin’ about it. Hopefully, you won’t have cause to even notice nothin’. If you don’t mind, I don’t mind?” He asked, desperate for her to be willing to ignore his unfortunate biology. Was it too much to ask, for a woman as inexperienced as Kit obviously was, to just ignore the man with the raging hard on laying next to her in the morning. To just trust that he could control himself, when he couldn’t even control his own dick and its unconscious urges.

“You really don’t need to do anything about it?” She asked, looking a little incredulous.

He debated the merits of an appeasing lie too long and she knew the answer was more complicated than he’d made it seem. He had to explain. With a little heat, rising up his neck and ears, he took a deep breath and replied honestly.

“Didn’t say that.” He began. “Said WE didn’t need to do nothin’ about it and maybe I won’t either most times it happens. Sometimes it’ll just settle down after a bit but sometimes I might need to take myself off to the john for a few minutes. That’s all. You don’t have to do nothin’ ever!”

She nodded, a little embarrassed herself, at having made him spell it all out for her. On balance though, she wanted him in her bed that night and she liked the fact that he was talking as if he didn’t mind spending more than just one night here. She hoped she wasn’t being unreasonable and asking too much of him, hoped he’d be as comfortable as he obviously wanted her to think he would be. She got the impression that he’d probably sleep in a pit of vipers, if she asked him to at this moment and there were a few kisses in it for him. The thought did nothing to de-rail her selfish longing though.

“Right then.” She breathed, taking charge again and with a cursory analysis of the rapidly sinking sun outside, she said: “Time for bed then I think.”


	47. Chapter 47

Daryl couldn’t quite believe how drastically his life had changed for the better, not Just in one day but in one week as a whole. This time yesterday they’d still have been having dinner with Aaron and Eric. He would still have been cripplingly unsure of how she really felt about staying. How she really felt about him. He had known, by that point, exactly how he felt about her though.

At this point, eight days previously, he’d just got himself to some level of safety, for an uncomfortable night, having just watched David get torn to shreds in seconds, after their accident. He’d sat, for probably the hundredth time in the past three years and wondered just exactly what the hell it was inside that just would not let him quit, would not let him give in and just die.

David had just been the latest, in a long, long line, of good people, many of whom had just been kids really, that he’d seen brutally slain, right before his eyes. How the fuck was he still here, when all of them were just gone. Why?

As he watched Kit, fussing back and forth nervously, he realised, with a rush of relief, that he’d never feel that way again. As long as he had her, as long as she was alive in the world, he had a purpose. He had a damn good reason for outliving all those good people and any others that came along in the future. He was here to do whatever it took to make her life worth living. To make her happy. He’d lie for her, cheat for her, beg, borrow and steal for her, kill for her, die for her. Whatever. Kit was everything and if he did ever lose her, he knew he wouldn’t have time enough to ponder it. He’d be right behind her if her time came before his.

He smiled proudly, his own ‘little miss organised’. She’d dug out a toothbrush for him and some ancient, stretched out, t-shirt emblazoned with a band name he didn’t recognise. It must’ve been like a sack on her but it would fit him well enough to sleep in.

Daryl got the distinct impression that she wouldn’t mind in the slightest if he wanted to sleep bare chested but he took the t-shirt gratefully. It wasn’t so much that he was ashamed of what she might see. She knew about his scars. Although knowing about them and seeing them were two different things, he thought he could stand to share them with her, when the time came. It was more the idea of those delicate little hands of hers ‘exploring’ in the darkness of her bedroom. He figured sharing a bed with her now was going to be a shit-tonne more ‘difficult’ than it had been before anyway, without the added perils of skin-on-skin contact to boot. 

When he came out of the bathroom in just his T-shirt and boxer briefs, Kit was setting down the second mug of water on the second night stand. Daryl wasn’t used to getting his legs out, especially in front of ladies, so he’d darted for the little cover provided by the edge of the bed.

Kit had looked around at the sound of the door, throwing her loose hair over a bare shoulder as she did so. Apparently she had an inexhaustible supply of ancient, stretched out, t-shirts. He thought he recognised the one she was wearing, as the one she’d worn most nights in the house in Garvey. Apparently she’d decided that she no longer needed the comfort of his old shirt, if she was going to be sharing a bed with the real thing again.

Daryl knelt on the bed and reached across for her hand. She took it shyly but seemed eager enough to join him on the bed, as he pulled her towards him. They met in the middle and sank into another long kiss before Daryl laid Kit down gently, still wrapped in his tight embrace. Neither of them spoke a word, aside from little satisfied humms of pleasure, for long minutes. The dog came in to the house, found her food, popped her head through the bedroom door. Found nothing particularly interesting to her going on and trotted back out to join Aaron and Eric, who were watering their new vertical garden in the last dull rays of twilight.

Eventually, Daryl pulled back, before the few little twitches in his dick turned into something neither of them would be able to ignore much longer. As darkness fell in earnest, he pulled Kit into a comfortable position at his side, rolling himself onto his back. He encompassed her in his arms, as he had back at the house, with a hand on her shoulder and the other on her thigh. That thigh had always been clad in her leggings before though and Daryl was a little taken aback to find both his hands caressing bare skin tonight.

He’d had to break their little makeout session because he could feel himself getting ‘difficult’, as Kit had so sweetly put it. It was going to be hard to get back some equilibrium, with her soft, silky skin sending shivers down his spine, even on this hot, summer night but he was damned if he was going to give up the feeling. He needed to take his mind off her body though.

“Are ya comfortable like this?” He asked, frantically hoping to start a conversation that would distract him from the warmth and softness of the body pressed against his. The breasts, crushed against his own chest.

“Yeah. You?” She responded in a happy, hazy tone.

“Yeah.” He lied.

“I’m sorry it’s not all just straight forward.” She added.

It was the last thing he wanted to hear from her but it did the job of breaking his earlier train of thought.

He sighed. “Done told ya. I’m happy with this and I ain’t waitin’, if this is all we ever have, I’m fine with it. Fine with you.”

He couldn’t make out her face anymore, in the blackness of the room. Her back was to the patio door, which provided the only ambient light. He couldn’t see her expression but he could feel her disbelieving thoughts, hanging in the air between them.

“Alright, listen.” He said in an exasperated tone and he felt her head shift on his shoulder. “Sex ain’t nuthin’ special to me alright. Ain’t like I had women queueing round the neighbourhood before. I ain’t no Casanova. I bet I could count the girls I bin with on two hands, wouldn’t need to take no socks off and that’s if I’d ‘a’ bin with any of ‘em long enough or cared enough about any of ‘em to remember all o’ their names.” He felt her shift, a little uneasily at that.

“And don’t go thinkin’ that was just me bein’ an asshole neither. It wasn’t like any o’ those girls or women ever gave much of a shit about my ass neither. I just never cared much about the whole business. Only ever made an effort, to even talk to a woman with a hook-up in mind, when my buddies or my brother were around, with girls on their laps, lookin’ at me like some kind o’ crazy for not chasin’ skirt myself.”   

Kit relaxed a little again. “Them girls were bar flies themselves. Out to let a guy buy their drinks, get drunk and get laid. Weren’t no classy ladies in any o’ them bars we went to. I’d try and talk to ‘em sometimes. Some were nicer girls, ya know? Dragged out to some dive bar by the loudmouth friend, usually found sat on my brother’s knee with her tongue down his throat. Them girls I didn’t mind so much, they was worth talkin’ to at least most times but they were still out for the same as their friends in the end. I bet I can count on the fingers of one hand the number o’ girls like that I was with, the number I might ‘a’ taken home, taken their number or thought about seenin’ more ‘n once. An’ I ain’t countin’ my thumb as a finger there neither.”

He’d tried to keep it light, hoping that she wouldn’t be offended by his, admittedly pretty indiscriminate and shameful sexual history. He wanted her to know that she was special to him, that this was special to him and that sex was not special to him; not in his experience at least. He honestly felt like he could live the rest of his life without it if necessary. He’d managed the last five years or more without turning a hair. He’d managed so far, even with the woman of his dreams right there in his arms, with just a few ministrations from his own hand. Yes, he wanted more, if she did but he didn’t need it. He hoped he’d convinced her of that now at least.

“OK.” She replied quietly, picking softly at the material of his t-shirt just below his heart.

“Nah. It’s not OK. None of it is, this whole world, the world before it. What happened to you, the life I lived, all as fucked up as each other. It don’t matter though, not to me. I got you now and I feel like I won the fuckin’ lottery or died already and I’m real fuckin’ glad to find that there IS a heaven and I’m in it.” He felt her shift again, felt her grip his chest a little tighter but he couldn’t stop now, he’d started down the road and he needed to finish. Needed to lay it all out at her feet.

“I ain’t never had nothin’ like this Kit, nothin’ like you. I guess I feel something’ pretty strong for my people here, I guess I loved my own blood some. I know I loved my brother, bone-headed jackass that he was and my mama but they’re gone. She’s been dead more ‘n three quarters o’ my life now. I ain’t never loved no one like I love you. Ain’t had no cause to, ain’t felt no need to ‘til I found you. Ain’t said them words since well before my mama passed but I mean ‘em now and I want you to believe it, ‘cause it’s true Kit. I love you.”

He felt the kiss before he realised she’d moved. She pulled back a little trying to look into his eyes and he could just make hers out now, at this angle and now that his eyes had become more accustomed to the dark. She’d been crying, he could see the tracks and taste the salt. He hoped that meant she believed him.

“Daryl, I…. I…” She began and he didn’t want her forcing those words out if they weren’t true, so he cut her off.

“An’ I don’t need you sayin’ it back neither.” He started. “You ain’t never had no family, ain’t never had no one close enough to love like family neither, from what you said. I know it can’t be that easy for you and I don’t need the words alright? You’re here, right? You’re stayin’?” She nodded. “An’ ya wanna be with me, like this? Right? Just like we’ve been tonight? You want that much?” she nodded again. “An’ I ain’t scared ya off none, runnin’ my mouth off?” She shook her head lightly.

Daryl cradled her face in his hands and brought her closer for a short sweet, if a little salty, kiss. “I love ya so damn much sweetheart.”

He held her tight against him again and they settled back into their previous position. Kit laid her hand over his heart and listened to the steady, comforting thrum of the heart that loved her for long minutes before she trusted herself to speak.

“You’re right.” She whispered across his collar bone, in the darkness. “No family, no friends close enough to be like family but you’re not family either and you don’t love me like your mama, or like a sister. I do love you. I know what it means now I’ve met you, lost you, found you again.” She reached an arm around his torso to hug him tight as she felt his hand move from her shoulder to her face, where he stroked her cheek and hair. “I love you Daryl, I do, I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone for the words first this time and we're taking our time with the physical side - hope that works for you guys.
> 
> I've quite deliberately gone for the triple 'I love you'. It's pretty classic and I'm not usually much of a 'romance' reader but I liked the triple in 'North & South' when I read that (Oh, Mr Thornton - *swoons) and I noticed they threw it in for Mr Darcy in the 2005 film version of Pride & Prejudice too, which TOTALLY worked for me! :D


	48. Chapter 48

He’d let her speak, let her say her piece, in stunned silence. He knew it came from the heart. That it was as true for her as it was for him. She loved him. The ‘why’ of it escaped him completely but he didn’t doubt that she meant every word. He’d stroked her soft skin and felt all of the tension drain out of her, once she’d unburdened her heart. He’d listened as her breaths stretched out and sleep claimed her.

And then he spent the next long hour or so, listening to the distant merriment of the party and staring at the ceiling.

He couldn’t quite believe that this was real, she was real, that he was here in her bed. She was just laying peacefully in his arms. Like she belonged there. Like they’d spent his whole life, just hanging around, waiting for her to turn up and give them a true purpose. He was totally alright with that. It felt damn good to be her comforter, her pillow, her goddamn teddy bear if she wanted. Whatever. This felt right, he just had to convince himself it wasn’t a dream.

He’d never thought about settling down, even before, even to one place, never mind with a woman. Women had been around, sure. He’d been straight with her about that. He’d been shamed and bullied into showing some kind of interest at points throughout his life but to him, they’d always just been slightly smaller, worthless assholes, with slightly better hygiene. As far as he was concerned, there’d never been any reason to pair up with one or be any less wary of them than of his brother, or his brother’s asshole friends; who he supposed had also been his asshole friends, as he’d never actually bothered to try and make any real ones of his own.

He ran a rough hand gently across her soft shoulder, drunk on the sensation. Merle would never have allowed him to keep his own friends or especially a girl-friend anyway, not for long. He’d have shat in the well and forced him to choose and Daryl would have chosen Merle, ‘cos that’s all he’d ever known, since uncle Kyle passed on and Merle got kicked out of the Army around the same time. Merle was the only blood he had left and sticking by him was all he’d thought to do.

He was damn sure that that was one thing that had changed for the better, since the dead started roaming around like they owned the damned place. No fuckin’ way Daryl would have let Merle drive him away from Kit. He could do his worst, go hell for leather, give it his best damn shot but Daryl would die before he’d give her up now. If Merle were alive, Daryl would be overjoyed to have his brother back but in this moment he’d also be more than happy to tell him to go fuck himself and mean it, rather than let him ruin this.

Daryl knew he’d changed for the better these past few years. He couldn’t have said it out loud. He barely dared think it to himself. Everyone around him had lost so much, had given up so much of what they’d been before. He’d lost too, he’d suffered. But he’d grown into himself too, found parts he hadn’t known were there.

This new world had hurt him more than every whipping his daddy ever gave him and every bar fight Merle had ever gotten them into, times a hundred. But he knew it only hurt ‘cause it had given him something too, made him part of something. It only devastated him because having a family, one he could actually get along with, without them trying to control or break him, was opening him up. Making him face himself, his demons. Making him step up and be counted, take responsibility and be relied upon by people he actually cared about and who actually respected and were pretty nice to him. This world made him vulnerable, where once he’d been impervious because he never gave a shit about nobody or nothin’.

Carol had called him out on that once, seemed like years ago now but in reality it was probably barely one year. She’d said he’d seemed like a kid to her when they’d first met and she felt like he’d grown up since. He guessed that was fair comment.

He looked at the sleeping woman resting peacefully against his side. Her silken hair falling across her face and cascading on his shoulder. Her breath, soft and regular against his collar bone.  He knew she’d be a killer blow. He’d felt something for her, in the pit of his stomach, before they’d even shaken hands at that store on day one. A school-boy crush, seemed like the level of it to him now. By the time he’d held her, close enough to kiss, at the lake, he’d had an inkling of the depths it could go and that this woman could make him fall hard if he let her.

Losing her then had almost killed him, he’d thought at the time. When they’d met again and saved those girls together, it had seemed like a miracle to him. He’d known he’d have to convince her to come home with him and that the group would have to let her in. If there had been an objection, he’d have fought for her. He’d have cashed in all his chips, called in every favour and they all knew they owed him in one way or another. For her he’d have ‘made’ them take her in, whatever Rick said.

He’d known it wouldn’t be that easy before he even got her over the threshold though. Within the first few hours he’d seen that she felt like a caged animal. Her dog was less than enthusiastic, with everyone but the kids and she was just a reflection of Kit’s own mood. He’d realised then that she’d never really planned to stay. She could survive out there on her own quite well and didn’t need to be here. He didn’t really know why she’d agreed to come and he’d kicked himself for muddying the waters further, by taking advantage of her in that damned closet. He’d known he had just the day or two she’d promised and then, he feared, she’d be gone.

He’d seen then that it wasn’t Rick and the others he had to convince, it really was her. She put on a decent show, she was polite and answered questions. She’d tried to be ‘normal’ but it was an act and trying to be ‘little miss sunshine’ 24/7 would take its toll. She was tired of all the noise and the people and the curious chatter. She found it exhausting and just as fucking annoying as he would have. The only interactions she didn’t seem to balk at (to his eye) were those with the kids but even there, he could see her holding back and wanting to hold, even them, at a distance. He could see the cogs turning, excuses forming, saw her eyeing up the escape route in her mind.

He couldn’t fathom why she’d stayed as long as she had already but he’d had that day’s grace, while she floundered about how to extract herself from this situation, to fix something up for her. Try and convince her it might be worth staying.

Aaron and Eric had already offered him the shack. It had running water and a wood stove with a back boiler for heating. It was more than fine for him. No power but he didn’t need any. He’d been planning to broach the subject of his moving out, with Rick, Michonne and the others. He was in no hurry, if they kicked up a fuss but he didn’t expect they would. He spent much of his free time in Aaron and Eric’s garage anyway. He was barely at the house, other than to catch a few hours shut-eye or babysit Judith when needed. He’d still be nearby when they needed him. He figured they’d be fine with it. The house was too damn crowded with a loved up couple in it anyway. They’d probably be as glad of the extra space and privacy as he would.

Aaron and Eric were a little surprised when he asked if they’d mind the new girl taking it instead but they’d had no objection to it. His arguments must’ve made a bit of sense to them and it was true that a closed in garden, like theirs, would be best for her dog to start with. They’d met her, they liked her, they got that she was shy of crowds and was an outsider. Like him, like them.

They’d helped him clean the place out for her. Daryl tried to ignore Eric’s knowing expression and feign indifference to anything other than his intention of keeping a solid, useful person in their community. He figured that wasn’t gonna fly at the time and now he dreaded the look of satisfaction when Eric realised how right he’d been about Daryl’s true feelings.

When he’d gone in search of Kit, he’d found her blankly staring at the wall at Tara’s. He’d dreaded that she was on the brink of a decision that he wouldn’t like. For the first time in his life he’d jumped in quick, taken charge. He’d insisted that she come with him, showed her the place, sold it to her like some damned realtor or second hand car dealer or something.

He’d hardly dared look at her the whole time, afraid to gauge her reaction but the relief in her eyes told him all he needed to know. She’d stay. For now at least.

He hadn’t known what to do with himself, or her after that. He’d been so focussed on getting her to come and convincing her to stay, he hadn’t considered what to do with her now she was here. He’d marvelled at her stories over dinner with Aaron and Eric. The places she’d been, the things she’d seen and done in her life. So far removed from the small, little existence he’d lived before. He’d felt the weight of it. Finding a woman he could truly love, only to realise she was waaay the fuck out of his league and he wasn’t fit to lick her boots.

He’d struggled that night, on the porch. Worried that she didn’t feel anything for him at all and he’d ruined any friendship they had already, with a stupid drunken grope. Or worse, that she did feel something like what he did and was waiting for him to make a move. He could have told her she’d be waiting forever. He’d hardly ever been able to put himself out there for a touch from a woman he didn’t give two hoots about. There was no way he was going to open himself up to a woman who had it in her power to really hurt him. Really shoot him down in flames.

Thank god she was braver than he was with this shit. He could have cheerfully murdered Aaron for busting in when he did but at least that little ray of light, that tentative glimpse of a possibility, had allowed him to live in hope. Now here he was. He’d kissed her for the first time (sober) less than ten hours ago and here she was, sleeping in his arms, having told him she loved him.

She sighed and squeezed her soft body against the length of his side, bringing him back to the here and now. He’d really done it now, for good and all. Here was something to lose. Something he knew beyond doubt that it would kill him if he ever did lose.

He’d given all the Governors and the Negans of the world the golden bullet that would stop him dead in his tracks. He’d willingly given his heart and soul and was more than willing to give his body too if she wanted it, to this sleeping creature in his arms. Although he could kick himself for it in his head; in his heart, body and soul he just couldn’t bring himself to regret it for a second, as he finally drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be away next week, so I'm currently frantically trying to write as much as I can before I go and set myself up with a not too onerous task for when I get back (won't be able to write at all while I'm away).   
> I'll definitely be posting another chapter on Wednesday and I'll try to crack out another one on Friday or Saturday (instead of Sunday) to make up for my week away. Sorry in advance if the next few chapters are a bit ropey.  
> Thanks for reading, as always.


	49. Chapter 49

Daryl woke the next morning, to find his arms laying empty. No Kit but before his heart could sink, he realised that he was still in her bed and he could hear her movements in the next room. He didn’t have long to register that he’d woken up, for the fourth morning in a row, with serious ‘morning wood’ before she came padding back into the room.

Holy shit she looked good. The baggy t-shirt she wore was long but couldn’t hide those shapely legs of hers and though it swamped her shoulders, it definitely needed to be baggy to be anything but skin-tight over her bust. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a dishevelled, damn sexy, mess.

Daryl shifted, awkwardly, to try and hide the bulge, straining his underwear. “Hey.” He rasped, as he moved to sit up in the bed. “Mornin’ sweetheart…. Missed ya.”

He held out his hand and she took it swiftly, joining him on the bed. “Mornin’ to you too.” She said. “The dog needed seeing to…. Sorry, I knew you wouldn’t sleep through it.”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her for the first time of many, he hoped, today. He hadn’t forgotten that this was the first day of their gift of time together. He’d slept longer than he had for days but it was still early. No one else would be around for hours yet. Maggie and Carol wouldn’t leave before late morning at the earliest. He smiled as he caressed her arm and her messy hair. Hours to fill.

“You hungry?” She asked.

“I can eat later.” He replied. “Right now I’m just hungry for you.”

He pulled her back onto the bed so quickly she made a little squeal of surprise. She didn’t object though, as they spent long minutes making out again.

____________

Kit had never felt so happy, comfortable or safe in her life. She felt like she and Daryl were the only two people on earth and that was absolutely fine by her right now. She’d had a chance by now to become accustomed to the, previously alien, sensation of their kisses. Now she had a chance to examine her other new sensations. She was especially enjoying Daryl’s hand on her bare hip, where her t-shirt had ridden up and the way he ran his hand up and down her side, slowly, squeezing her lightly here and there, through the fabric of her t-shirt, as he went.

She was just arriving at the point of drumming up enough courage to direct that hand to her breast, where she felt she was ready for him to explore now, if he wanted. At just that moment, Daryl suddenly broke their kiss and announced he had to use the bathroom. She was a little thrown by that for a second, until she realised, small room that it was, that he wasn’t in there necessarily to relieve himself of excess water.

With a little flush to her cheeks, she rose from the bed, went through to the kitchen and made sure to make plenty of noise, so he knew she was out of ear-shot. He had warned her, she guessed it was one of those occasions where it hadn’t calmed down of its own accord. Poor Daryl.

___________

Throwing the tissue into the toilet bowl, Daryl turned his attention to the sink, above which hung a mirrored unit. He caught his own eye and looked away quickly, unable to face himself right now. He wanted her to feel safe with him, he’d told her the truth and wanted her to believe that what he had with her now was enough but he worried that THIS shit was going to make it hard for her to believe.

She had to know why he’d run for the bathroom without warning. Had to know why he was taking so damn long in here. She must know too, that he was in here thinking of her while he jerked himself off. How must that feel? To know he was picturing her body, her lips, the feel of her in his hands the taste of her mouth. Using her like that.

He shook his head. He’d never used anyone else like that, ever. Not someone real, someone he knew. He’d always just looked at magazines or thought about an actress from a film he’d seen or a show he liked. Real women never showed up in his fantasies, or occurred to him during jerk off sessions. Not until that day at the lake.

He had Merle to thank for introducing him to the concept of jerking off in the first place. After their mama died, their dad had been AWOL a lot. He was always drunk, most times he was drunk somewhere else but even when he did find his way home, he was mostly out of it and incoherent anyway in those early months and years. Daryl had been pretty much left to fend for himself, those first couple of years but to be fair to him, Merle had tried to step up a little.

He’d only been seventeen himself, at the time of the fire but he got on Daryl’s case, whenever he noticed him ditching school, not eating enough, or still up and around in the house, in the small hours of the morning, when he should be in his damned bed. He wasn’t exactly parental though and he wasn’t great at making sure Daryl had actually gone to bed, when he told him to. Daryl spent many an hour watching whatever horror film Merle had on from behind his brother’s back. As long as he was quiet, Merle never seemed to notice. And if there was one thing Daryl had always been, it was extremely fucking quiet.

Sometimes Merle wasn’t watching horror films, or thrillers or whatever though. He and a few of his pals had just started out on their careers as local, small time, criminals. They’d robbed some rich asshole’s house and Merle had sold some of his share of the goods that they took, to pay for groceries but he’d kept the guy’s VCR. Pretty fucking stupid to keep something like that, that could be traced back to its owner if the cops ever showed an interest in him. Merle just wanted the damned thing, felt like he owned something out of Star Trek or something with a VCR in the house and he’d never claimed he was a genius.

So, Merle wasn’t restricted to watching whatever the networks chose to put out. Sometimes Merle was watching a video and sometimes he was watching just one scene in a video, over and over, while he pulled himself off.

The first time Daryl found his brother, hunched up close to the TV and the VCR, flicking between rewind and play, with his left hand and messing around in his under-shorts with his right, he didn’t have a clue what was going on. He caught on fast, between the images on the screen and the effect they seemed to be having on Merle, Daryl got the picture.

It took him a while to feel any kind of urges himself, by which time Merle and the VCR were both long gone but when he did, he wasn’t picturing some girl he liked at school. He hardly went to school and didn’t like any of the kids there anyway. All the neighbour kids were a little older, or a lot younger. They were good for hanging out with, when he wanted company but he wasn’t attached to any of them.

As he’d started changing physically himself, he began to find girls kind of fascinating, in the way anything completely ‘other’ always was but he didn’t want to do anything with any of the ones he knew. Merle’s stash of porn and underwear catalogues, left under his old bed and the memories of those ‘blue’ movies had done the job. That’s all he’d ever really needed, until now, until Kit.

Years later, after their dad had finally done them all a favour and pickled himself to death, after uncle Kyle had followed, barely a year later, eaten alive by cancer and mourned far more sincerely than his brother-in-law had been. Daryl had found himself once again living with his big bro. He remembered one of Merle’s ‘occasional’ girlfriends had always seemed like she kind of liked having Daryl around to talk to in the mornings, while ‘lover boy’ slept off the night before.

Some of Merle’s girls took a shine to Daryl from time to time. Tried to set him up with their little sisters, or cousins, or friends. He didn’t like it. Luckily, neither did Merle. Merle didn’t want any of his girls having any kind of hold on him, through a connection with his baby brother. Daryl just disliked the whole idea of people interfering with him, trying to make him think or feel things he just didn’t think or feel.

This girl had never tried to set him up. She’d ‘got’ him a little, this one. She understood. Smarter than she looked, smarter than he’d given her credit for. One morning, after witnessing his brother hassling him about ‘striking out’ with a girl at the bar the night before, she’d told him something he’d conveniently forgotten since.

“Don’t you let Merle bother you none honey.” She’d said, as she helped herself to coffee. “You just ain’t like him and his buddies. Ain’t ‘any hole’s a goal’ for you and that ain’t a bad way to be. Don’t let no one tell you otherwise. One of these days, Darly Dixon, some sweet girl’s gonna come along and turn your head and you ain’t never gonna look back. You’re a ‘lifer’ is all. You find that girl, she’ll be yours and you’ll be hers and you ain’t never gonna think twice.” She’d left for work, taking the coffee mug with her.

“When he wakes up, tell your asshole of a brother he still owes me fifty bucks an’ I don’t want his worthless ass, sniffin’ round me again, ‘til he’s got it.” She ruffled Daryl’s hair in passing. As she opened the door, she winked at him and threw over her shoulder. “You take care o’ yourself now sugar.”       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's late. I'll try and put the next one up before I go away but it will have a bit of a cheeky cliff-hanger at the end. So if you'd rather not read it and then have to wait a week for the next one you might want to wait a bit before reading Ch50.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read: You will absolutely HATE me if you read this chapter and then have to wait well over a week to find out what happens next so pace yourself please. ;)

Kit heard the bathroom door and looked around the corner to see Daryl coming out into the bedroom. He looked a little down to her and she wasn’t having that. Not today. She turned off the little gas stove and went to see what was wrong.

“Hey.” She said, curling her fingers in his and wrapping his arms around herself. “I’m making porridge if you want some? Or we could go back to bed?”

She watched something like relief flood his face. She didn’t know what he’d been worried about but apparently something she’d done had dismissed it. She was glad of that. He didn’t seem like a natural worrier but he certainly seemed to have a knack for over-thinking things and worrying over nothing, where she was concerned.

She supposed she should be flattered that he thought enough of her that he worried what she might think of him. He really needn’t though. Short of murdering an entire village of innocents with his bare hands, Kit couldn’t think of much he could possibly do, that would put her off him now.

“What have you been fretting about?” She asked bluntly, as she stretched up on her toes to catch a kiss.

He hummed a little sigh, shaking his head. “Yeah, busted!” she laughed. “Come on, out with it.”

“Jus’ a little mad with myself is all.” He mumbled. She looked at him like he needed to expand on that, so he did. “I meant every damned word I said last night an’ then things get a little hot n heavy an’ I have to take myself off to the damned john like a fuckin’ teenager. Don’t want you thinkin’ I didn’t mean what I said.” He whispered desperately, curling his fingers in her hair and touching her forehead with his own.

“I know you meant it.” She assured him. “Just as much as I did.” She tilted her head up to meet his eye and kissed him softly. “And to be fair, you did warn me you might need ‘wank breaks’ last night too, so I can’t exactly complain.”

It took him a second to register what she’d said and translate the unfamiliar term into context. Once he had, she saw the realisation fire across his face and a little amused laugh followed. She smiled cheekily back, glad to have defused a little of his tension at least.

“You don’t mind?” He asked, shaking his head in wonder.

“Of course not.” She replied. “I suppose I should be flattered really. Nice to inspire someone’s passion.” She smiled and kissed him again, like it was some form of punctuation.

“Yeah but I mean, you don’t mind me thinkin’ ‘bout you while I…” He blushed a little. “I mean, it’s kind of like usin’ ya, I guess?”

“Am I the star of the show in there then?” She smiled, stroking Daryl’s temple with her thumb.

“Never thought about a real woman before but ever since I met ya, yeah you are.”

Although a little shocked to get a straight answer and even more so, to find that he’d been thinking of her like that since the beginning. Kit honestly couldn’t say that she was remotely upset or offended by the idea. Quite the opposite in fact.

She answered him seriously. “I’d rather you were thinking of me than anyone else I guess.” She said. “I mean, think about it. If you found out I was fantasising or touching myself while thinking of some other guy you’d be pretty pissed off wouldn’t you?” That got the desired reaction.

Kit calmed his immediately tensed frame, with gentle stroking hands. “Well, you can relax. I never bothered much with that stuff, even during adolescence and I never thought about anyone I really knew.”

Having calmed him down, she decided that full disclosure was going to be the best policy here. Taking his hand, she lead him to the bed and sat down, indicating he should do the same. She opened the bed-side drawer and removed a small pouch. “At least I never bothered much until around the time I found this.” She rolled the vibrator out of its protective pouch and showed it to Daryl. The look of puzzlement, morphing into shock and then unease, on his face was priceless.

“I gave it a nickname, after the inspiration for needing it.” She said, handing him the pouch. He turned it over in his hands and found his own initials staring back at him. “My friend Lisa could tell there was something going on with me when I landed in Texas and she was overjoyed to find it was ‘man trouble’. That’s her nickname for you, once she’d finally dragged some details out of me…” She pointed at the initials, she’d written three years previously, in tears, assuming she’d never lay eyes on him again. “Dishy Daryl.” She clarified with a naughty smile.

Daryl went from completely embarrassed bewilderment to rampantly horny, in two seconds flat. The pouch and vibrator were discarded and forgotten in an instant as he claimed her lips and laid her back on the bed. Apparently he was fine with being her inspiration too.

___________

Passion had turned to soft, slow kisses, as soon as Daryl had realised he needed to cool it down if he didn’t want to have to take a ‘wank break’ every twenty minutes.

“You really think about me, when ya use that thing?” He asked, sounding a little incredulous.

“Mmmmhmmm.” Kit answered, running her hand down his side. “Every single time.”

“An’ it don’t bother you usin’ it, with… uh, with what happened to ya?” He asked tentatively.

“Mmmm, no.” She answered thoughtfully. “It used to bother me when I was younger. Touching myself where they’d touched me felt wrong. Dirty. It was never physically painful but it still hurt somehow… I don’t know… it was a long time ago anyway.” She shook those memories away. Another person, another life. “I feel OK with it now. Especially when I imagine you’re there. I don’t feel like anything could be wrong or hurt me when I’m close to you. That’s why I picked it up I think.”

She knitted her brow, a little puzzled by her own self-analysis. “When I was thinking of you, I’d get… ‘fruity’ and doing something about that reinforced the fantasy of you being there and that made me feel safe for a while. I think? Well… maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I just discovered I liked a bit of a wank myself. Bit late in the day maybe but I got there in the end.” She smiled and kissed him. Punctuation; your turn to speak.

“Hmmm, OK.” He watched his hand, grazing up and down her side. Mezmerised.

Apparently he didn’t have any more questions. She did though. “So, how long before Mount Daryl blows it’s top again then?” She asked.

“Huh?” That got his attention, it took him a second to process what she was asking. “Uhh, kind of depends I guess… why?” He asked a little warily.

“I was thinking I might like to try something but if we’re in the danger zone then..”

“We ain’t.” He cut her short. “What you wanna try?”

Kit smiled, surprised with her own wanton enjoyment, at having her own, Daryl shaped, man sized, sex toy, ready to do whatever she asked and no more, at her bidding.

“Well..” She began, picking up his hand, currently squeezing her hip softly and bringing it further north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you. You have only yourself to blame. ;P


	51. Chapter 51

Three hours later, everyone was gathered at the gate to say their goodbyes to Carol, Maggie and her people. The last hour had been fraught and Rick’s face still reflected all the turmoil he felt at also saying goodbye to his own son.

Apparently Carl had raised the subject at the party the night before, after garnering a few more voices on his side and making sure his dad had had enough of Kit’s champagne to be merry but not yet unreasonable. Daryl had walked in on round two or three of the ‘discussion’ when he finally returned to the house about an hour earlier, oily rag in hand, as though he’d just been working on his bike while everyone slept in.

Immediately drawn into the argument, Daryl stuck by what he’d said to Carl on the wall two days previously. The boy was going to be the future of their shared community. It was important he knew, from the ground up, just how Hilltop and the Kingdom worked in practice, if he was going to lead in the future. He’d dragged Rick out of Carl’s hearing to impart those words. He knew that the strategic advantage was something Rick had to appreciate and that, as a proud father, he would recognise and want his son to be a strong leader in whatever future they forged together.

Rick had baldly refused to entertain the idea the night before. He’d been worn down enough by Michonne, Carol and Maggie to consider discussing it again in the morning and with additional pressure from Michonne, during what sounded to have been a pretty sleepless night, he’d actually listened with more of an open mind this morning. It was Daryl that swung it though.

Rick, Carl and Daryl were the only three people, left at Alexandria, who’d been together from the start. Well, if they were going to be technical, Daryl had actually been with Carl longer in this ‘after’ world than even the boy’s own father. Either way, they were closer than anyone would ever have known. Bonded by something only those who’d been through it all together could possibly fathom. If Daryl thought it was a good idea, if he could see the sense in it, if he trusted Carl to take care of himself in this world and come back to them alive and better for the experiences he’d had while he was gone – well, maybe Rick should too.  

After Daryl’s vote of confidence, Rick had seemed to resign himself a little to really listening to Carl’s arguments. Daryl had seen the fear in his eyes as he’d realised that the boy’s reasoning made sense, that this was something he really wanted to do and that Rick was going to have to suck it up and let him go. Two months, bartered down from three. It was a start and Carl was happy with the bargain.

At the gate, bags packed and hugs all around, as Carl joined the knot of people preparing for their journeys home. Kit had hung back from the main group, probably feeling that her place was with the Aarons and Erics, rather than the fierce family that had been forged on a farm in Georgia, or even in a box car at Terminus. Daryl was a little glad that she’d hung back. Every time his eye wandered in her direction he had the worst time dragging it away again. He needed his head in the moment for now.

Carl had trotted over briefly to Kit, as his dad was saying his goodbyes to Carol. He’d petted and fussed over the dog. The only person here, except Daryl, who’d ever dared do so yet. Rising, he’d ducked his head in respect and said he hoped she’d still be here when he returned. He’d looked over his shoulder, not so subtly, at Daryl as he said it. She’d ignored the gesture and assured him that she would be, wishing him luck on his prolonged secondment, as his dad had called him over again.

Kit was a little surprised when both Maggie and Enid came over specifically to say goodbye to her. Enid thanked her for the idea of the vertical gardens and promised that she’d feel the benefit of them during her ‘next visit to Hilltop’. Kit had never actually stepped inside the walls at Hilltop before, so she was a little taken aback by the invite but Maggie quickly reiterated it. “Call first so we can set you up a bed though.” She’d joked before thanking her for the HAM.

“It was a team effort.” She replied, seeing Carol advancing towards them as well.

“Yeah but the ‘team’ only knew where to look because of you sooo…” She said approaching and smiling at the group of women. Maggie and Enid nodded their agreement and hugged Kit in turn before leaving she and Carol to their own goodbyes.

Carol offered Kit her hand. As the other woman took it, she leaned forward for a half hug and said into her ear “If you ever hurt him, I’ll tear your heart out with my own two hands.” Releasing Kit she faced her with a laughing smile but something in her eyes communicated very clearly that, although she wasn’t really being ‘heavy’, she meant every word.

Kit nodded lightly. “I’d rather you did than hurt him in the first place.”

Carol beamed. “Which is the reason I haven’t already scratched your eyes out.”

Both of them smiled, real, warm, genuine laughing smiles of understanding and shared love, of different kinds, for the same man. No one else had heard their exchange and Kit knew that Carol wouldn’t betray her admission to anyone, until they were ready. She understood their need for privacy, if not all of the reasons for it and Kit understood her need to protect Daryl’s surprisingly sensitive heart.

Jesus had come to claim Carol, only moments later. They were going to the Kingdom together, to present the gift of the HAM and to tell Ezekiel about the recent illness and the reason for Carol’s prolonged absence. He hugged Kit close himself, before going. It was the first time he’d ever dared to touch her in front of her four legged bodyguard but her dog was sitting quite placidly by her side and had already witnessed her mistress being hugged by three other people, so he risked it.

“You take care of yourself.” He said. “And him.” He whispered, in the hug.

Kit blushed a little and pushed him away with an embarrassed but happy little grin.

_____________

Daryl left Rick and Michonne at the gate, staring after the dust clouds of the distant convoy. As he passed, he told Michonne that he’d be fixing up the solar panel on Kit’s roof if anyone needed him and it’d probably take most of the day.

She’d nodded, looking at the heartbroken man by her side, she’d replied that he should take his time. Daryl nodded. Rick needed to hold Judith close today. That little girl wasn’t going to get a minute’s peace from her daddy all day and he’d have no time for anything else, unless world war three broke out. Michonne was telling Daryl to stay away, give him space. He understood.

He’d nodded to Kit, who was already making her way back to the house with Aaron and Eric and had looked back as they turned the corner. They’d already planned their day over breakfast. As they’d sat curled up together on the couch, sharing a giant bowl of porridge, they’d decided that she’d properly ‘move in’ today.

So far, he’d noticed that she was still living out of the pack at the end of her bed. The landy, sat on the drive outside, was emptier than when they’d arrived, having been divested of all of her ‘gifts’ for the family and the trade goods, that were now just her opening contribution to her new home. It was still loaded with most of her remaining worldly goods though. Not that she’d need most of it again. The solar showers would be a thing of the past but there was still plenty for her to bring in and find a home for. While she did that, he’d hook up the solar panel.

He fully intended that those activities would fill no more than two or three hours. He knew he’d be up on that roof at the hottest part of the day but he wanted to get it all done, as quickly as possible, so he could spend the rest of the day resuming where they’d left off this morning. If she was in the mood for trying anything new this afternoon, he wanted to be ready, with plenty of time to spare for any ‘experiments’ she was up for trying.

As he walked over to the storage house now, to pick up the small panel he’d earmarked for Kit, he thought back to the delights of the morning and swore this would be the fastest installation of a solar panel in history.

The shock of her hand guiding him to her breast had been quickly dismissed, as the pure thrill of the texture and weight of it in his hand had overtaken him completely. He luxuriated in the glorious, ample hand full. He’d kissed her sweet mouth and curled his tongue in hers as he’d explored her nipple; circling it with his thumb, before lightly pinching. He’d kneaded gently and rubbed soft circles in her tender flesh; all through the barrier of her t-shirt. He’d kept contact with her mouth as he’d rolled her onto her other side and repeated his explorations with his other hand, on her other breast.

The sensations and the soft noises she’d made, full of pleasure and aching desire, had eventually forced him to the bathroom again but with far less embarrassment this time. She’d told him the night before that it wouldn’t be long until she was ready for more. He honestly hadn’t needed any more than she’d given him up to that point but now she’d given it, he needed that as well.

Her lips had been a gateway drug, now he was hooked on her soft, yielding flesh too. He’d accidentally run his hand up her naked back, as her t-shirt had ridden up towards the end there. She had skin like liquid silk and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he was allowed to explore her further, skin-on-skin. He shuddered, a lightning bolt of anticipated pleasure at the mere thought of it. The more he got, the more hooked he became. He’d never been desperate for the touch of any woman before. Never craved like this, just for a kiss or a grope of a nice pair o’ tits. But that wasn’t what this was anyway and there was no comparison between her and any woman, or pair of tits, he’d known before. This was Kit, she and her entire body, was sacred. Another level. Another world.

As he walked back towards the little house, panel under one arm and cables in the other, he thought about it clearly for the first time. It really did break down to the three elements. He’d connected with her spirit, her soul, from day one of meeting her. He’d fallen in love with her personality, her mind, gradually over those first few days, as he'd gotten to know and marvel at her - and then again, even more so, when they’d found each other again. He’d known the first real stirrings of lust for her body at the lake but now, in the last twenty four hours, he’d actually begun to have a chance to really start to fall in love with her body and he was falling hard. Just as he had for her spirit and her crazy, brilliant, brave, beautiful, perfect, self.

God help him if he started thinking down this road while he was up on that roof. He was liable to kill his damned self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a rushed job - sorry. I'll try to write something for the weekend but I am away again, so it might be posted up later than usual or it might have to wait until Wednesday.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's taken a full week and I'm afraid this may be the way things are for a while actually. I'm finding it really hard to find the time to write at the moment and although I still have ideas, I'm afraid my ability to get them out in a coherent fashion appears to have gone out the window.
> 
> Hopefully it's just taking a while to get my mojo back, after my break and it'll sort itself out soon, otherwise I might have to condense my plans for the rest of this story and wrap it up quicker than I meant to.
> 
> Anyway, apologies to anyone patient enough to still be reading. Thanks as always.

Kit chatted, absentmindedly as she walked back with Aaron and Eric. It wasn’t that she wasn’t listening or interested in the conversation but she was only half paying attention. The other half of her brain was occupied with plans.

She left them and the dog in the garden, claiming that Daryl had asked her to make a couple of preparations for his work today. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Daryl hadn’t actually asked her to do anything but she did need to prepare. She needed to prepare herself.

This morning’s experiment had proved to her that she was ready. As ready as she thought she’d ever be anyway. She’d never been as aroused by anything as much as Daryl’s exploring hands. Her tits had always seemed like these, irritatingly ‘in the way’ and hard to appropriately contain, appendages to her useful body. They had no real purpose and she’d never felt anything when she’d touched herself the way Daryl had this morning. What had it been but a gentler version of a breast examination? Something she’d given herself a hundred times over the years, without anything like the same effect.

It had been by far the most erotic (another new concept) breast examination she’d ever thought to experience, that was for sure and in Daryl’s hands, her breasts appeared to be the ‘on’ switch of her sexual desire. Daryl had had to run to the bathroom but Kit had certainly had her own sticky mess to deal with as well. Those had been her favourite pair of knickers too, so she hoped they were salvageable.

Kit wasn’t sure how far she’d be able to go but at the very least, she wanted those hands on her body again. She hoped she’d be brave enough to bare her skin for him now. No one had ever seen her topless, since well before puberty had saddled her with those fleshy carbuncles in the first place. She’d never even shown them to anyone for medical reasons. She hadn’t known what the stretch marks were at the beginning and had assumed the worst; some horrific form of cancer perhaps. Even that possibility, frightening as it was to an already self-conscious, self-loathing thirteen year old, hadn’t helped her get over it just enough to show a doctor. They’d silvered over the years of course and weren’t as dramatically hideous as they’d once been but she’d kept them to herself none-the-less. Daryl would be the first to see them. Today, tomorrow, sometime soon.

She wasn’t sure what else she might be brave enough for but she had a few minutes, while Daryl fetched what he needed from the store house and picked out the tools he’d need from the garage. She grabbed her epilator and made her way to the bathroom. Best to be prepared. There should be just enough charge for a quick ‘tidy up’ before he got home.

Home. That made her smile. She hoped he would think of this as his home soon. She always had, right from the first night. It had never belonged solely to her, it had always been his place too. It was their home and she hoped it always would be.

\---------------

This damned thing was a little more complicated than the one Daryl had fitted to Earl and Betsy’s trailer ten years ago but that one had been meant for mobile vehicles. It was meant for easy installation on the hoof. This one was only small but it was meant to be permanent. He’d get there in the end but he’d be later down than he’d hoped.

Good thing he’d been later up than he planned too then. He’d got stuck talking to Aaron on the way through the garden. Offers of help, kindly meant but it was a one man kind of job. He’d helped set up the ladder and carry the panel up to the roof. That was pretty much the extent of what he could do, so Aaron had excused himself to go help out elsewhere. And Daryl had taken the opportunity to slip inside and take a moment with Kit before he got going in earnest.

That ‘moment’ had stretched on some. She was in some kind of fever or something. As soon as Aaron was out of earshot and Daryl was within range of the door, she’d grabbed his arm and practically dragged him into the house. Pretty nice to know she wanted his touch as much as he was desperate for hers.

Every pleasure of their morning together was condensed and deepened during that half hour or so. It almost killed him to drag himself away. It would look odd though, if she didn’t have a panel affixed to her roof when their neighbours returned home that night.

He’d thought their little ‘interlude’ might affect his ability to concentrate and get the job done quickly. As it turned out, the little taste to tide him over had taken the edge off his need. The explicit promise of more later and the knowledge that nothing, barring all out war, would stop that happening. Well, that was the icing on the cake. He could relax a little and take the time to get this damned thing right.

Sometimes, when she made her trips back and forth across the garden, he hardly even noticed, or took the time to watch her go. Sometimes. Occasionally. Once or twice… maybe.

\-------------

Kit was just finishing up the stir fried vegetables and rice, as Daryl came down and back into the house. The MP3 player was singing away at her side, winding down the remainder of its charge. The first she knew of him being there was on hearing, what could only be described as, a growl of approval as he leant over her shoulder to see what was for lunch.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, clutching her hand to her chest and laughing in surprise. “You scared the shit out of me.” She dropped the spoon and turned to greet him properly, holding him close, smiling lips at the ready. “How long have you been loitering there behind me.”

He claimed a kiss, now she’d made it plain she’d welcome one. “Long enough to build up a hunger.”

Kit laughed at the double meaning and reached back with one hand to turn off the burner. “Then why didn’t you let me know you were there?” She asked, wrapping his arms around her waist in an example of the kind of greeting she’d definitely have welcomed.

She’d noticed that she was always the first to initiate contact like this. She worried that this would always be the way, unless she did something about it. He would always be timid to make the first move, always concerned that her history made her fearful of surprise contact. It might have been the case once but she’d had a long time to learn to cope with people invading her space and although the last couple of years might have set her back a bit with others, she’d never shy away from Daryl. She’d have to cure him of that misapprehension.

“Would’a thought you could smell me comin’ a mile off.” He grumbled, indicating his sweat stained shirt.

“Mmmmmh, yeah there’s a definite whiff of man.” She laughed, wrapping her arms about his neck and reaching up, with a little growl of her own, to press her lips back where they belonged.

Indicating that Daryl should park his scruffy arse, Kit served up and they sat at the little breakfast bar to eat lunch together. Daryl promised there wasn’t much left of the job now. Just a little hooking up to do down here. He looked around approvingly, at the more ‘lived in’ look the house was taking on, now Kit had at least unpacked her small amount of belongings. Turning back to the table he winced slightly and rolled his shoulder painfully.

“You OK?” Kit asked with concern. “Did you hurt yourself up there?”

“Nah, just had myself in one position too long, got a bit stuck is all.”

“Does that happen a lot on that side?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Since when?”

Daryl thought about it. He couldn’t lie to her. “Glenn…” He said. “That day… that was… ahem, was the same day Dwight shot me in the shoulder.”

“You didn’t tell me that bit.” She replied.

“Wasn’t the important bit.”

“Matter of opinion.” She retorted. “Carl thought it important enough to mention, Aaron mentioned it, even Maggie didn’t neglect that detail.”

“Hmmmm.” He hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten to his family in such a short order, howready they’d been to discuss such a painful chapter in their shared history. He knew none of them blamed him for what had happened that night. If that was how they felt about it then he guessed it made it easier for them to stomach Glenn’s death and he guessed that was good. Didn’t mean he felt the same, or that he ever would. “Ain’t the important part to me.”

Kit nodded, no point arguing about it, there was nothing she could do to change his mind.

“Didn’t hit nothin’ important, fucker couldn’t aim worth a damn anyway, bad angle, ricochet off the bone as it sliced through is all… just plays up sometimes.”

Kit had given Daryl twice her portion and the mention of Glen had slowed him down, so she was far ahead of him and almost finished with her lunch. As she finished the last couple of fork-fulls, she tackled two birds with one stone.

“You know…” She began, playfully. “I’m much better at coping with being touched ‘out-of-the-blue’ than I think you give me credit for.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do with this random and sudden change of topic and tone, so he left it alone and just watched her warily as he ate his lunch.

“The reason for that is that I got in such a state with it for so long that I had to address it or be marked as a total weirdo for life. So I made a plan.”

He was desperate to say it but daren’t. He didn’t have to, she beat him to it.

“No fuckin’ shit!... right? Me? A plan? …. Never!” She laughed at herself and was pleased to see him begin to relax a little more; a smile of agreement tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I decided to throw myself into the deep end and force myself into close proximity to other bodies but to give myself the upper hand in those interactions. Being in control of the situation helped and eventually I was fine with other people around me and sometimes touching me ‘out-of-the-blue’, whenever or wherever it happened.”

He didn’t need to ask, she’d tell him anyway but his face definitely asked. Kit smiled.

“So..” she said, slinking out of her seat and making her way around the table, caressing his arm as she went. “You are a very lucky boy. You’re looking at your very own, personal, massage therapist.” She whispered the last two words in his ear, as her hand came to rest on his bad shoulder. “And even luckier, I’m a _Sports_ Massage Therapist and I was always a bit of a deep tissue release specialist.”

\-----------------

Daryl had never had anything against massaging his aching muscles. He’d never had anyone else to do it for him though and he’d never have dreamed of getting a professional on the job. He’d always assumed that only another man would have the power to attack the issue with any kind of success and certainly an injury like his mess of a shoulder. He’d felt the rough texture of the scar tissue under the skin there but he’d never had the angle right to get any kind of real pressure behind his own ministrations. He’d never imagined that the little slice of heaven who’d claimed his heart would be the one to batter his cranky old shoulder into submission.

She was well on her way though. She’d spent twenty minutes or so digging down deeper and harder than he’d ever have given those little hands of hers credit for. At first the pain had been excruciating but there had always been that knowledge that it was exactly what was needed and it wasn’t like he couldn’t cope with pain. She’d asked if it was too much, all the way along, he’d assured her it was fine and god damn it if it hadn’t gradually become so.

By the time she’d released his shoulders he felt light headed and much more like a ‘lightly-used’ Daryl, rather than the ‘old wreck’ he often found himself feeling like these days. Even more amazing was the fact that she had no intention of that being his last ‘treatment’ today.

“I’d better stop there or you’ll be in no state to get that panel hooked up down here.” She’d said. “But we’ll pick this up where we left off, as soon as you’re done….. if you like?”

Daryl was in no mood to argue with that and hadn’t even raised an objection when Kit had insisted that she’d need to ‘get at it properly’, which meant that she’d need him shirtless and face-down on the bed next time.

“I’m sure I’ve got some body oil somewhere.” She blustered on, avoiding his eye, in case he was spoiling to argue. “If not, Olive Oil will do it.”

Daryl had risen, shaken himself off a little and put the dishes in the sink before making his way to the storage cupboard on the other side of the living area. That was where the cables would come through the roof and connect to the power transformer.

Even in his hazy state he had just enough wherewithal to reach for her. “OK.” He said in passing, before thanking her in the currency she seemed to prefer. “Thanks.” He breathed, as he separated his lips from hers. “Won’t be long an’ I’ll wash up some when I’m done. Don’t wanna stink up your bed.”


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still slow-going I'm afraid. Sorry.

“Our bed.” She’d corrected. She thought of it as his bed too. This whole place was his, if he wanted it and her along with it. Friend, girlfriend, partner, lover maybe… someday and now she was his personal massage therapist too. Daryl stared, only half comprehendingly, at the cables in the cupboard and wondered if he should pinch himself. He had to be dreaming but if he was, he sure as shit didn’t want to wake up.

He reached up with his formerly bad arm and grabbed the ends of the cables; still marvelling at how good it felt, after just twenty minutes of her attention. Time to get this shit done and get back out there to that woman and her healing hands and whatever the hell else she had in mind for him today.

\---------------

Kit had found a small bottle of sweet almond oil, of all things, buried in the bottom of a ‘cosmetics and potions’ swag bag that had been sitting in the back of the landy, gradually being added to but not yet unpacked into drawers or cupboards. There was more than enough for a few treatments in here and she’d found other lotions that would do when it ran out.

She’d cleared up the lunch things and unpacked a little more in the bathroom and the bedroom. She’d heard Daryl start to test things in the living area and had clapped with joy, when he flicked the light switch in the bedroom and the sconces either side of the bed had come to life. This whole house had lain a hair’s breadth from being finished all this time. It was like it had been waiting for them, for him. All this place had needed was a Daryl and she liked to think, a reason for him to want to make it liveable. He’d smiled at her appreciation, nodded and returned to the cupboard.

He wasn’t quite finished but he would be soon and she’d decided that after all his hard work he deserved a bath. She remembered one of their rambling conversations back in Garvey about their shared love of a long, hot, soak in a bath, after a hard day. They’d been day dreaming. Kit hadn’t had access to a bath since Lisa’s place and if she’d known it would be her last opportunity for three years, she’d definitely have had one there. As it was, the closest thing she’d had to a bath since arriving in the country had been that last day with Daryl at the lake.

He was just as badly off. Apparently there was a bath in the master-bathroom upstairs in their house but Daryl never had any good excuse to hog it, when there was a baby a teenager and two or three other adults living there at any one time. He only used the downstairs shower room, when it was free, or more often he just made do with a basic strip-wash at the sink in the utility room.

Well, Kit had her very own bath now. She’d had one herself, on her first night here. Now it was Daryl’s turn to reap the benefit. She drew it now, in preparation. She’d tell him just to have a quick wash before the massage but the bath would be waiting, for him to sink into, when she’d finished with his shoulder.

\--------------

It hadn’t really hit him, until he’d dried himself off and felt the familiar rough catches against the soft towel. She’d basically asked to see his scars and not JUST see them, she planned to touch them too. And he’d basically agreed, without even thinking about it. He hadn’t been unaware, hadn’t been sleepwalking through it, he just hadn’t even thought about it. Even now, he wasn’t ashamed, wasn’t worried for himself, wasn’t nervous for her to know the extent of it.

His only concern was for her. She had no idea what was in store and he worried that she’d be affected by it. If he was honest, it was usually the pity in people’s eyes that bothered him more than disgust but pity wasn’t his worst fear with her. His worst fear was that this blight, this evidence of his own childhood hurts would cause recognition in her eyes, bring back memories of her own. He didn’t ever want anything he did to remind her of anything painful; to be the cause of any kind of agonies now.

With a sigh, he wrapped the towel across his bare shoulders and steeled his courage, as he reached for the door handle. Had to be done sometime. Best get it over with.

\----------------

Kit saw immediately, by his hesitant entry into the room and the way he held tight to the towel, that she’d waited too long already to ‘fess up. She should have told him in Garvey, in that wardrobe, or sometime last night. She should have told him and now she’d worked him up into another state, with all her pushing.

She smiled at him, trying to catch his averted eyes. “Daryl, I…” She began, reaching for him as she approached.

With a little twist of body language he’d stopped her advance and he cut off her words before she could get started.

“Look, I know you think you’ll be OK with ‘em an’ all but I didn’t wanna just come right out with it all.” He began, indicating the towel. His only protection from her gaze. “They ain’t pretty Kit.” He said, meeting her eye for the first time. “An’ knowin’ they’re there ain’t the same as seein’ ‘em….. or touchin’ ‘em.” He looked away again. His hair doing a stellar job of helping to shield his eyes.

Kit kicked herself at her own stupidity, her own selfishness. Why hadn’t she thought to at least say something BEFORE she asked him to strip for her. She took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

“Right.” She began. “I’m so sorry Daryl, I should have told you this before and I hope you can forgive me for not doing. I don’t know what I was thinking… I suppose it just didn’t occur to me because it’s not an issue, as far as I’m concerned but I should have realised how you’d feel about this… I’m so sorry.”

A flash of confusion, through chestnut strands, told her she was getting ahead of herself. Explain first, apologise after.

“I… umm… I’ve already seen them… your back… your scars.” She offered.

“What?....” Confusion morphed briefly into bafflement, as Daryl looked back at the door he’d just come through, perhaps imagining her crouched at a keyhole or having used some hidden spyhole back in Garvey. This was a man who very deliberately made sure not to remove his shirt where anyone might see, after all, where the hell COULD she have seen his scars? “Whe… How?” He settled on finally.

“When you found me at the lake that day.” She began softly, backing towards the bed and sitting, leaving room by her side, if he chose to join her. “That wasn’t the spot I’d been intending to use.” She looked up briefly, sheepishly and then hurried on. “When I got to the jetty and saw you there already, I promise I intended to just call out and tell you I was there and I’d find another spot further on…but before I got the chance, you took your shirt off and I understood why you never did that at camp and why you wanted to be there alone and I knew you’d hate that I’d seen you.” He’d gradually made his way to the bed and lowered himself beside her at that.

“You’d hate to think that anyone had seen you… I could see what they were, how old…. I knew what they meant. I understood. I’d have felt the same myself.” He reached for the hand, picking furiously at the fabric of her leggings. She looked up and their eyes met.

“I couldn’t shout out then.” She said in a whisper. “I snuck off as quietly as I could.” He nodded. “But I saw them Daryl, I know.”

As she reached up to caress his face with a gentle hand, Daryl closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. There’d been something like shame to start with, fear, horror, understanding, acceptance. Now she felt something like relief, radiating from him.

Suddenly he took a breath and broke contact. Standing, he turned towards the bed and pulled the towel away, discarding it over the footboard. Kit only had a brief view of his strong, broad chest, sparsely dusted with hair and sporting the obvious scars of his more recent injuries, one to his shoulder and the other, a smaller wound, just above his left hip and marring the otherwise smooth, taught lines of his slim waist. She swallowed hard at the sight of him again, after all these years and so, so much closer but had no time to process before the sight was gone again.

“Best get on with it then I guess.” He mumbled, as he clambered into position on the bed and lowered himself down, without further ado.

\--------------

They didn’t speak another word for ten minutes or more, as Kit decided that she needed to address the, still very much present, tension before she could even start on his shoulder. She traced the pattern of his tattoos with gentle fingers, as she positioned herself on the bed. But for the scars, her lips seemed a better choice. She felt him shudder slightly as she bent to kiss each blemish softly, allowing her tongue to trace the lines of some of the whip marks, breathing gently against the soft pliable skin of his strong, straight back. “You are the strongest, most beautiful creature I’ve ever met in my life Daryl Dixon!” She breathed against his broad shoulder, as she positioned herself to begin.

He had frozen, like a statue, from the first touch of her fingers on his back and had remained locked in startled stillness until she uttered those words. He’d gradually relaxed into her touch and her kisses, as she’d explored and finally a murmered sigh, released the last drop of tension as he gave himself up to her care. “Right back a’ cha sweetheart.” He moaned, with closed eyes and a spreading smile. “I love you.”

She had whispered a return of that sentiment, softly in his ear, before setting about her work. Deep frictions to loosen and break up the knotted, tough scar tissue. Long, continuous, linear pressure along each and every muscle group. As the tissues and muscles finally seemed to be battered into submission and relaxed down completely, she returned, again and again to the underlying knots and scar tissue beneath; getting in deep to the heart of the matter and feeling the gnarled gristle of long-ignored pains dissipate under the pads of her fingers and thumbs.

Finally, when she felt she’d done as much as she could for his injuries, her pressure lightened slightly and her pace slowed as she concentrated on relaxation, rather than rectification. She’d only meant to be a little softer and leave him feeling peaceful, rather than pummelled to within an inch of his life. But as her ministrations became more gentle Daryl seemed to react to them with more pleasure.

He’d hardly uttered a single sound, as she’d practically beat his shoulder black and blue but as soon as she softened her attack and used a more languorous stroking motion, he began to moan and hum with pleasure, at every touch.

The whole thing had no less of an effect on Kit herself. She’d never enjoyed giving a massage so much in her entire career as a trained therapist. She’d given plenty of massages to friends but she’d never been as ‘connected’ to any of her clients (friend or not) as she was to this man. She almost felt like she could feel what he felt, that she was massaging herself, as well as him. As she’d slowed down the pace to relax him after the hard work, she felt like she was channelling something almost sensual and his moans of pleasure were only putting voice to her own sensations.

She hadn’t planned any of this, she’d barely thought she’d be brave enough to lose her top by the end of the night but things had changed and she knew what she was ready for now. Leaning down close to Daryl’s ear Kit spoke softly and quickly, before she had a chance to come to her senses and change her mind.

“Would you mind if I joined you in the bath?” She asked.

“You serious?” He asked, suddenly twisting his head and shoulders quickly and awkwardly, potentially undoing all her good work.

 “Down boy!” She laughed, forced him back down on the bed. “I mean… I’d still be in my underwear but yeah.”

“Hmmm.” He seemed to ponder it. “Can I wear my underwear?” He asked, eying her with his one available eye and sporting a cheeky half smile.

Kit half-laughed and half-sighed in response. “If you must.” She said, with a cheeky smile of her own and kissed his cheek.

“Well alright then. I guess I can share a bath.”

“Daryl?” She said, in a more serious tone.

“Hmmm?”

“There’s something else but you have to promise me something first.”

He sighed. “OK. What now?”

“In a couple of minutes I’m going to get up and go and get in the bath and wait for you to join me.”

“Mmmmh, sounds good.”

“Before I go I have a surprise for you but you have to close your eyes and promise you won’t open them again until I’ve left the room.”

Another little twist and a look to see how serious she was. She must look pretty serious, she thought, because he nodded before closing his eyes and returning flat to the bed.

Kit sat back on the tops of Daryl’s thighs and pulled the t-shirt she wore off in one fluid motion. She breathed in for courage and with one last glimpse to make sure his eyes were tight shut, she unhooked her bra and placed it on the bed, inches from his head.

With one knee either side of his thighs and one hand, placed either side of his shoulders, she lowered herself down. As the tips of her nipples grazed the oiled skin of his back, Daryl flinched slightly, not knowing what was going on behind him. Kit stopped her progress briefly, her heart in her mouth and her eyes fixed on his closed lids. He wouldn’t open his eyes, he’d promised. She continued her descent until her breasts were crushed against him and she’d pulled her hands in to curl against his arms and rest under his shoulders, finally laying her head to rest against his neck.

He knew, of course, the whole process had taken a minute or so. More than enough time for him to get the picture. His breathing had given it away if nothing else. He didn’t say a word.

They lay there, like that, for a few minutes. Relaxing into it, becoming accustomed to this new level of intimacy, this new realm of closeness.

“I’m going now.” She whispered. “Take as long as you need… I’ll be waiting.”

She began to lift herself away and hesitated briefly. She almost reminded him not to look around but she didn’t. He wouldn’t, he’d promised.

Daryl slowly opened his eyes as he heard the soft splash of water from the bathroom. He’d wondered, in the blackness before he opened them, if he’d dreamed the last hour or so. A dream, within a dream, perhaps? But the first thing he saw, right there, next to him on the bed, was her lacy, purple bra.

She’d have to wait a few minutes. Daryl had some ‘difficulties’ to overcome before he could trust himself in her bath water. But he knew she was in there, waiting for him and she might be wearing panties but she definitely wasn’t wearing her bra. A broad smile spread across his lips, as he anticipated the joys to come this evening.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still slow going but the next chapter is running really long so I figured I'd break it up and put half up now and the other half up as another chapter on Wednesday. At least then there's something to tide you over.  
> Thanks so much for reading and continuing to put up with this annoying slow spell.

She knew it had been a bit unfair, doing that to him out of the blue and she knew he was probably going to be a while. But it had been such an overwhelming urge, such a massive temptation and it had felt so bloody good. So unbelievably comfortable. So surprisingly natural. It had been worth it to her and she hoped it was worth it to him too. She suspected he was fine with it and would easily forgive her, if he even considered it something requiring forgiveness.

She’d sunk into the bath and allowed the oil, that had rubbed off of him and on to her, to wash off slowly. Smiling at the small oil-slick, pooling around her. She remembered the taste of his skin, as she’d explored his back, before getting down to, by far, the most unprofessional massage she’d ever given. Her cheeks blazed at the thought of it and another source of heat made its presence felt further south.

Sat now at the end of the bath, close to the taps, hugging her knees and waiting, she wondered what else she might be brave, or reckless, enough for next.

After a few minutes had passed, she heard his hand on the handle of the door and took a deep breath as he stepped into the room. She didn’t look around until she realised he wasn’t moving. It couldn’t be that surprising to find her here waiting, like she’d said she would be, looking around, she realised that the shock on his face wasn’t so much for the nakedness of the back facing him, as it was for what he hadn’t expected to see there.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” She mumbled, shaking her own head in realisation.

“Well ain’t you full of surprises.” He laughed.

“I’ve done it again…. I forgot to tell you about the bloody tattoo.” She gestured with her hand, in a physical show of her own frustration with herself.

Daryl just seemed amused, at least it had broken any lingering tension about her recent exploits she supposed. He climbed into the bath behind her carefully, trying not to cause a tidal wave and settled himself down to inspect her ink.

She’d almost forgotten it was even there after all these years. A giant pair of unfurled firebird’s wings had graced the lion’s portion of her back for the best part of twenty years now. She’d had an urge to mark her freedom somehow, once she’d got out of care and got herself her first decent job and a life of her own. It had taken a year or so to settle on a design and a further year and a half of finding the right artist, saving up and having the various sittings it had taken to complete her work of art.

She had loved them.  They had seemed like a mission statement to her. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, she’d never look back; never allow her shitty past to hold her back again.

She’d berated herself a little over the years for not really living up to that ideal in all aspects of her life and continuing to keep people at a safe distance. Caring, to an extent but no further than friendships and even those, only of the quick, disposable kind. But here she was, after all these years, in the arms of a man she’d known for just a little over two weeks in total and now couldn’t imagine her life without. Here she was, having her wings inspected with his gentle fingers, his lips, his tongue. Being pulled back to rest against his chest, laying enfolded in his arms.

 She shocked herself when she realised that she hadn’t just been thinking about the story but had been speaking it aloud. She hadn’t been conscious of sharing these thoughts, her inner monologue had become their shared language. “Mmmh” he breathed into her neck, sending chills through her whole being. “It’s beautiful.” He kissed a line, up to her ear and she wanted to say “You’re beautiful.” As she found herself, once again, caught in his comforting embrace. Held tight against his hard, strong and largely naked body; feeling utterly at ease in his powerful arms. “You’re beautiful!” he mumbled in her ear as he turned her face towards him to catch her lips in his own. She allowed herself a little laughing escape of breath at that and returned his kiss.

\------------

It didn’t take long for Daryl to investigate whether he was welcome to explore Kit’s newly exposed areas. Smiles and kisses and no discouragement whatsoever, told him that exploring was fine. Definitely welcome. So he let his hands wander, caress, kneed, pinch and otherwise reconnoitre to his heart’s content.

Her little whimpers of pleasure created growls of his own as the bath water cooled slowly around them. Neither bather felt the cold. They felt only the comfort, safety and loving warmth of each other and the heat of their bodily connection.

Daryl was just starting to worry, that the occasional twitch in his dick was going to start becoming noticeable to Kit, when the lady herself pulled away from their current kiss. For a second he panicked that she’d felt something and he’d made her uncomfortable.

“I’m getting out.” She explained, matter-of-factly.

As she stood awkwardly and grabbed for the towel on the rail, he appreciated the view but still wasn’t sure if he’d scared her off. He was a little thrown off by the suddenness of her decision and the hurry she seemed to be in. He worried the nail of his thumb as he watched her step out of the bath and dry off her legs quickly, facing the opposite way.

Should he say something, or would it only make things worse, he wondered. Surely she was bold enough that she would tell him if he’d done something wrong. She wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t leave him hanging long.

He froze in shock when he saw what she pulled out from under the towel and laid on the rail. The black, lace topped panties she’d been wearing in the bath thirty seconds earlier. The ones he’d briefly explored with his itching fingers. The waist band had given easily as he’d slid his hand underneath to feel the shape of her hip and the softness of her covered skin. He hadn’t explored for long and hadn’t tried anything closer to her more 'sensitive' area but it had felt like a liberty and one she hadn’t in any way resisted him taking.

She didn’t say a word, didn’t look back and Daryl was only vaguely aware of her leaving the room. He was still transfixed by the dripping underwear on the rail as he heard her speak, out of sight, behind the open door.

“You coming?” She asked, as she swept the towel to drape over the top of it.

The world stopped for Daryl in that moment. He daren’t move, daren’t breathe and afterwards he couldn’t even be sure that he’d heard his own heartbeat. He was listening too hard to hear anything but her footfalls, the ruffling of bedclothes and the soft creak as she settled herself on the bed. She hadn’t stopped anywhere or opened any drawers on her way to the bed. She was waiting for him in her bed... their bed.... and she was STILL naked. The second he was sure of that was the second that the bath exploded with movement.


	55. Chapter 55

The room was much darker now. Kit had closed the blinds to create a more relaxed atmosphere for the massage but the sun had still been high in the sky then. Now it was late afternoon and there wasn’t much light coming through. She’d made her way quickly to the bed and pulled the covers up. She waited nervously as she heard the tsunami in the bathroom, the plug pulled, the towel whipped off the door and put to use.

As the door was pulled back and he came into view, the butterflies fluttered but she was still sure. She’d made her decision. It was scary, she was nervous but she was going to do what she’d decided to do. It was time. She was ready.

She watched, as he approached warily, towel wrapped tight around his waist, hair still damp, chest still glistening. Yep – Kit was definitely ready for this and ready for a major slice of whatever came next.

He shifted his weight nervously and eyed the covers. “You uhh… you naked under there?” He asked.

She smiled and eyed the towel. “You naked under there?”

They both gave a little nervous laugh.

“Can I join ya?” He asked low. A serious turn to his tone.

Kit nodded and was mildly disappointed when he took her up on the offer but somehow contrived to slip the towel off and get himself under the covers without showing any more skin than she’d already seen. She got over her disappointment quickly, as he moved close enough for her to feel his body heat. He stopped, tantalizingly short of touching her.

“You sure ‘bout this?” he asked.

She made deliberate eye contact as she nodded her response. “I’m ready.” She assured him. “But you’re going to have to lead the way… I’ve no clue what I’m doing here.”

Daryl leaned his head forward, touching his forehead to her own and holding her gaze. “Me neither sweetheart.” He smiled, stroking back an errant strand of hair from her forehead. “This here is next level for me too.”  

Breaking the spell, Daryl kissed her gently and ran his hand over her shoulder and down to her breast. The texture was intoxicating, her skin was like silk. As he lightly rolled the stiff nipple between his fingers, she trembled slightly at his tender touch and her cheeks blazed at this level of face-to-face and very much wanted intimacy. As he pulled back a little to hold her gaze, it crossed his mind, not for the first time, that his skin must feel like sandpaper to her but if that thought occurred to her there was no sign of it on her face. She leant towards him and renewed their kiss, deepening it with her soft full lips and her searching tongue, sending a charge through his whole being.

He moved slowly, taking his time to explore her body and test the sensations he could illicit from her, as he caressed her gently from her breasts to her hip, following the inverted curve of her waist. He squeezed her lightly in every soft area he found along his path and found that she responded to them with little squeezes of her own on his arm and chest. As Daryl explored her haunches with his hand, he relinquished her lips and began to move down the familiar territory of her neck with his tongue. Licking and softly biting as he went. Her breath became ragged as he worked his way south.

He continued to take his sweet time, kissing, licking, nipping at her soft sweet skin. He covered every inch of her torso and belly. He teased her naval with his tongue as he massaged her breasts, much more gently than she’d massaged his back. It all seemed to help her become accustomed to this new territory and relax into it. Her familiar sighs of pleasure indicated that she was definitely enjoying his attentions so far.

On an impulse, he felt inspired to try something he’d never done before. From deep in his memory banks he dredged up a thousand scenes from Merle’s old porno stash and felt like he knew enough to try it out for himself. As he got closer, he could feel her stiffening nervously and it made him hungry to know her body better than she did herself.

She wasn’t bald, like some of those porno girls but her pubic hair was neat and the texture excited him as he rubbed against the little patch above her sex. He felt her anxiety as he gently ran his hand between her knees and up the inside of her thigh, subtly pulling her legs apart. She was nervous but she’d made her decision and Daryl figured he wasn’t forcing her into anything. She was strong enough to let him know if he really pushed her too far. She’d said she was ready. She wanted this all as much as he did. She was stubborn as hell and once she made a decision she was definitely going through with it. It was just up to him to help her along.

He investigated her gently and curiously, never having actually wanted, or thought, to get such an up  close and personal look at a real vagina before. His first taste of her tender flesh was pure heaven and though she froze at his first touch, she gradually began to moan softly, as she relaxed and spread her legs wider to allow him better access. Daryl couldn’t get enough of her. Every lick, every nibble, every suck elicited a response in her body. An arching of the back, an involuntary noise in the throat, a handful of his thick hair raked into her fist. He traced the shape of her sex with his tongue, sucked on the little nub of nerve endings that he’d heard about, seen in those movies but never actually messed with much in person.

By now Daryl was sure she was enjoying it, her arousal was pretty clear. As he lapped hungrily at the entrance of her vagina, he’d felt the pulse and he was thrilled to discover that her juices poured thick and fast, tasting sweet and heavy, like over-ripe fruit. A taste, he decided, it wouldn’t take much to become addicted to. He’d just wanted to do something to loosen her up, he’d figured that this was something just for her, as he’d started out. He’d had no idea he would like it this much too. As he coaxed her down from what he assumed was her first orgasm, it was all new to him too and he was sure he had plenty to learn but he was damn sure he was willing to put in the time to practice. Making her literally scream his name, with just the use of his mouth, was going to be his new favourite pastime.

As he worked his way back up her body he felt her legs, still shaking around him and met her gaze as she smiled pure ecstasy at him. He knew he was smiling back, as he couldn’t remember ever having done before in his life. His face ached with it. His entire body ached with the pure joy of being with her, in this moment, in this bed, with the taste of her most private parts still in his mouth. The most confident, the most wanted, the most alive he’d felt in his entire existence up to this point. Here was something to fucking live for.

He brushed her hair back from her beautiful, blissed out face, with one hand and settling himself comfortably, he looked into her eyes for her consent. Finding nothing there but eagerness and encouragement, he reached down, between their bodies, to guide his hardness into her. If nothing else, she was now more than ready physically.

Kit was as wet as she could be and he was gentle but as he eased his head inside her tight opening, her face registered pain and his heart sank to have caused her a moment of discomfort. Recovering quickly, she saw his hesitation and clutched him to her, resuming eye contact, resuming their kiss and the moment of doubt was gone. He let her adjust to his length by easing incrementally inside her tight walls. It took long minutes but it was worth every second when he was finally in her, from root to tip, all the way. Home.

He moved gently and slowly, not wanting to rush himself or her. He knew he wouldn’t last long. It had been a long-ass time since he’d been with a woman of any sort and he’d never been with one he’d cared about or wanted even a fraction as desperately as Kit. He’d also never been with a woman who was as inexperienced and unworldly as Kit was. He was sure she wanted this, he was sure she wanted him but she was letting him lead the way because, as much as the intimacy was new to them both, he did at least have some past experience of the mechanics to draw on.

He’d stretch this out as long as he could but he’d resigned himself to a disappointing first try. That’d been why he’d wanted to try out those old porno moves and do something to get her on her way before he even tried to get inside her. Hopefully this would be good enough not to put her off more because it was already, by far, the best sex Daryl had ever had and he’d only just got his dick involved in the action. He definitely wanted more of everything and hoped she would too.

To both of their surprise, Kit had thrown her head back, cried out and started shaking and shuddering, this time with waves of blistering orgasm, long before Daryl felt the tell-tale tightening in his balls and the tingling in his spine that heralded his own. When he eventually exploded, deep inside her, he had no idea how he’d lasted so long. At the same time, she had no idea where the orgasms that had eluded her, her whole life, even when she’d been ministering to herself with the aid of the vibrator, had come from. Both collapsed next to each other in an exhausted heap of flushed cheeks and sweat soaked limbs.

With soft, gentle humms of pleasure and sleepy kisses, they held each other close and drifted into a deep, satisfying, dreamless sleep. As they were claimed by unconsciousness, they each prayed to the god that neither of them really believed in; that this was real, that they’d wake in each other’s arms tomorrow and do it all again…. All day, if at all possible.


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is later going up. Technical issues plus last minute re-writes because I read through and realised half of it was a re-tread or didn't actually make sense. Such a doofus at the moment.

“You heard that right?” Eric asked, rushing in from the garden eagerly.

They’d arrived back half an hour earlier with the dog, who Aaron had to admit, had been just as handy as Daryl and Kit had promised she would be. Even without her mistress (or de facto master) she knew what she was expected to do out in the world. She’d cleared streets, buildings, vehicles. She’d guarded their backs. He was pretty sure you could get used to this, which made him pretty sure he shouldn’t take her every time they went out. But once in a while it would be nice not to have to be on high alert all the time.

“Nope.” He replied lightly, pouring kibble for the dog while he waited for the water to boil. He looked up to see Eric, obviously beside himself with glee about something. The sight made him smile. He wished he ever found even a tenth as much joy in the world as Eric did in a hundred things every day. He didn’t ever have quite the same level of crippling fear, the tendency to over-analyse or the occasional depressions either, which he guessed was the good part but he loved to see that high.

“What’s got you all riled up?” He asked, pouring the rice into the waiting pot.

“I can’t believe you didn’t hear. I was only on the deck.” Eric looked like he might burst any second. He’d been outside two minutes, just watering the new garden. What the hell could have got him in this state in two minutes.

“Well I didn’t.” Aaron laughed in reply. “So I guess you’ll have to tell me.”

“Well…” Eric began, obviously loving the suspense. “I’m pretty sure that Daryl didn’t go home after he put that panel up…” He smiled, taking the bar stool opposite Aaron and resting his chin on his hand. “Because I’m pretty sure I just heard Kit having a pretty epic orgasm.”

If Eric was trying to get Aaron’s attention then he’d definitely succeeded but he wasn’t about to let himself be carried away just yet. “O…..K…. but that doesn’t necessarily mean that Daryl had anything to do with it, does it?”

“You think she’d be remotely as interested in anyone else?”

“No but she could be…. Well… you know… taking care of herself.”

“Hah” Eric laughed. “You really didn’t hear it.” He smiled. “No one takes care of themselves THAT well.”

“Haha – OK.” Aaron laughed back.

“Besides… I checked that the door was open for her.” Eric indicated the dog, busy munching her way through dinner. “It was open but the bedroom blinds were closed and I noticed the bedroom door inside was shut tight too.”

“Oh, you just happened to notice?” Aaron teased.

Eric ignored the jibe. “Guess who’s tools were still sat on the breakfast bar.” He smirked. “And guess who’s name was getting screamed out in her darkened, closed up bedroom just now.”

Aaron laughed joyously at Eric’s delivery and at the situation. “Well good.” He said eventually. “It couldn’t have happened to a more suitable pair…. Finally!”

Eric nodded his agreement, glad that Aaron was finally in the picture and as pleased for the couple as he was himself. Both men had been beside themselves with joy to see Daryl so obviously smitten with their new neighbour. And it had warmed their hearts to see the clear signs that she appreciated the gruff, monosyllabic sweetheart, that WAS Daryl Dixon, just as much as he deserved.

Kit was very like Daryl in many ways. She was also a natural loner and seemingly didn’t consider herself much of any worth either. Which was crazy because she’d only been here three and a half days and as far as everyone was concerned they wanted her to stay forever. She’d proved herself more than capable, just by surviving out there on her own for three years: ‘smashing it in style’, as Daryl had put it. But as far as Alexandria was concerned, she’d already innovated the ass out of their vegetable production in the garden and sourced a communications network for themselves and their two closest neighbouring communities. People like Kit didn’t happen along often and when they did you bent over backwards to keep them. She was already invaluable.

Aside from her practical usefulness, Eric had really begun to like her and especially to enjoy having her and the dog as neighbours. She was easy to talk to, interesting and funny, when she was relaxed. Eric also found her to be a very perceptive judge of character and often caught her carefully choosing her tone or her words for specific people and specific situations. It would make her useful in no end of roles within the community but it also made her an ideal dinner party guest.

On her first night in the summer home, after they’d moved her in, he’d thought that either she or Daryl might refuse the offer of dinner, thinking they were being set-up and balking at being ‘managed’. It quickly became apparent that neither of them had really had much of a clue that the invitation had been for any other reason than their being nearby when Aaron happened to be cooking. A neighbourly gesture.

He'd loved to see the real warmth and ease between them as they shared the narrative of what they’d got up to in Garvey before Kit brought Daryl home and finished each other’s sentences when they were relaying hunting stories from their time together before the world fell apart. Neither of them had seemed aware of it but Eric had kind of loved them both more for their utter cluelessness.

He was also utterly exasperated to see that this was a case of two people who liked each other immensely but were obviously not sure of themselves enough to think their feelings were reciprocated in the same way. Neither of them thought they were worthy of the other; was his final analysis. He’d persist, of course because he could see how well suited they were and how much they liked each other. He had worried though, that his match making project would be more of a long-term process to get them both thinking outside ‘the friend-zone’.

Eric had been a little cheered by Aaron’s news that he’d interrupted some kind of heavy interaction between them that same night. Maybe they had more potential than he’d given them credit for. Daryl, emotional fuck-wit that he was, had walked off, probably in pure terror at the strength of his own emotions and doubtless, having no idea what to do with them, or her. He and Aaron had assumed that Daryl was probably off punching a wall somewhere already and they’d hoped that the accidental interruption wouldn’t too badly affect their burgeoning interest in each other.  

They’d only seen either of them briefly the next day, mostly Kit, mostly surrounded by Daryl’s pseudo family. She seemed happy, enthusiastic but also a little on edge, a little distracted. Both she and Daryl had done a piss-poor job of hiding their little surreptitious glances in each other’s direction at the barbeque. Absolutely no one had been in any way fooled by that performance and there had been zero surprize shown by anyone, when Daryl disappeared barely five minutes after Kit had made her excuses.

Aaron and Eric had both noticed and commented on the change in those ‘looks’ they’d exchanged. Something had happened between them at least, now they just had to hope they were going to capitalise on it. Who knew what had happened between them last night but something had definitely changed. Eric for one had been buoyed to find they’d both been less edgy during the goodbyes at the gate this morning. They were either getting better at acting their parts or they’d finally come to an understanding between them and weren’t such a pair of nervous cats anymore.

Then it had happened. As Daryl caught Kit’s eye, as they’d walked away and he’d been heading to the store house. That look, the little smile and nod they shared, the soul-crushing intimacy of that moment, when they hadn’t realised they were being observed and just couldn’t hide it from each other. That had told Eric everything he needed to know. As he’d suspected, it was love. It had blossomed between them sometime since the dinner party and they’d both accepted that the feeling was mutual.

Now he saw it, clear as day. These two damaged people, with the purest souls, had found each other, not just for sex, or to console each other for a few minutes. They would be each other’s salvation. Each other’s therapy. All this time, the group had been in Alexandria, Daryl had seemed like a bear with a thorn in its paw. He’d needed something, something to relieve the pain at his very core. It made Eric’s heart ache to think that Daryl had really always needed HER. Neither of them were the ‘fuck-‘em and leave ‘em’ type. They were a pair of doves and when they found their mate, that would be them for life. Their painfully slow start (for a pair so obviously made for each other) had been because they both knew that if this went anywhere, it would be going there for good and all.

Eric had realized, during that walk home with Kit, that he’d never seen Daryl happy before today. He’d seen him smile, that wry, jaded, half-smile he allowed himself sometimes but nothing like the warm, enveloping gaze he’d fleetingly seen hints of, crossing his face at their dinner party or the barbeque, when he’d been looking at Kit.  He’d never seen her eyes light up the way they had at the gate just now, or when she’d first caught sight of him when he’d arrived at the party yesterday. Even when she and Aaron really got into swapping travel stories; she’d beamed, she’d laughed and Eric was sure she’d been genuinely enjoying the interaction but the look that had just passed between she and Daryl was a different level. That face belonged to a different woman. That face was reserved, just for Daryl and the face Daryl wore in that moment, the one that made him seem years younger and without a care in the world; that face was just for Kit.

He’d pushed for Aaron to join him on a run this afternoon. Asked Kit if they could take the dog. He’d been desperate to give them as much time alone together as he could. Aaron had laughed at his ‘meddling’ but he’d gone along with it because he’d wanted this for them too.

Eric was over the moon that his meddling had paid off. He hoped to god that his instinct was right. He couldn’t imagine that anything but the real thing, the real Daryl in her arms, could have produced the sound he’d just heard Kit make.

“Alright Mr. Matchmaker.” Aaron crooned. “You can pull your head in now… Hah, if it’s Daryl out there getting laid, for the first time in god knows how long, how is it you’re the one looking like the cat that got the cream?” He leant over the breakfast bar to give Eric a well-deserved kiss before turning his attention back to dinner, a contented smile tugging at the corners of his mouth too.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late - technical issues with my broadband. And sorry again that I'm still having trouble finding time for more than 1 chapter a week. Thanks, as always, for reading and I really appreciate those who have commented, you've really kept me going, despite my loss of focus. Ta very muchly ;)

Daryl woke to find that the sun had fully set, he had no idea what time it was but he also didn’t really care. He’d woken to the sensation of excitable little fingers exploring his chest in the dark. She’d apologised, of course, saying that she hadn’t meant to wake him. He might possibly have believed her, had she not teased his nipple with her tongue half a second later.

He’d laughed and pulled her face up towards his. As sated as they’d both been, as they fell asleep, the hunger was back now with a vengeance. She was making it pretty clear that she was up for round two. Hooking her leg over his hip, pulling him into her space, making herself available to him. Well that was fine by Daryl and he was definitely up for more as well. He began to make his way down her body, desperate for the taste and texture of her sweet flesh again.

“You don’t have to do that.” She said, catching his arms as he brushed down her body.

Daryl’s heart sank. “You didn’t like it?” He asked. “I mean, I know it wouldn’t a bin all that great… ain’t never done nothin’ like that before but I’m sure I’ll get better with practice.”

Kit hadn’t been prepared for the note of woundedness in his voice, the little boy promising he’d do better next time. She’d thought she’d save him the bother of doing something that could only be pleasurable for her, that he probably didn’t really enjoy and was unnecessary. She’d been dripping wet for minutes now, since waking up in the arms of the naked man of her dreams for the first time ever and going over everything they’d done just a couple of hours earlier.

“No… I…. God no… it was amazing.” She blurted. “I mean… I loved everything you did, I had no idea it was your first time too.” He’d stopped his progress to listen, as she spoke but he was spending his down-time kissing her breasts and she found it hard to concentrate. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to.” She managed.

“Do I get to choose then?” He asked, running his hand further down towards her core.

“Of course.” She replied hazily.

“Alright, well I’m thirsty, so let’s get some juices flowin’” He laughed huskily. Not waiting for her answer to that, he was already kissing his way down her little patch of hair, making his way towards the gold at the end of the rainbow.  

Kit checked any misgivings she may have had at the door, for the next twenty minutes or so, giving herself up completely to the man between her shaking legs. Not quite able to process everything that had happened to her in the past few hours. After a life of avoiding close contact, intimacy of any kind with any one; she couldn’t quite believe that she had been the one to bare her breasts and kick all of this off by pushing that very contact on Daryl. Not that he’d seemed to remotely mind but it was still a complete surprise to even herself.

Kit had been overwhelmed, since her arrival in Alexandria by the amount of ‘give’ she’d been on the receiving end of. Daryl’s family hadn’t needed to be so welcoming, Aaron and Eric didn’t need to help her by providing this very bolt-hole. She’d been embarrassed by so much being given, without asking. It had eventually occurred to her, that even these nice people weren’t just being so generous out of the sheer kindness of their hearts. They weren’t even really doing it FOR her. They were doing it for Daryl. Repaying debts they owed him, points he’d stored up and never claimed. Everything she’d been gifted, since setting foot through the gate, had been for his sake.

No one had ever done anything just for her. She’d had friends, who’d helped her out over the years but that was push and pull. You gave a little and when it was your turn to need a hand, you’d ask and those favours would be repaid. Even Lisa. Yes, she’d put Kit up for a couple of days but it hadn’t been entirely selfless. She’d wanted a break from just being mummy or wifey, she’d wanted to re-live her youth a little with an old friend.

As far as Daryl was concerned, she supposed an unbiased onlooker might imagine that he’d had ideas about what his prize might be, for his own kindnesses to her and those his family gave on his behalf, right from the beginning. But that onlooker would have failed to understand the man. Kit knew, even as she heard the satisfied moans he was making right now. That he’d have stuck by his words to her on that first night here. He’d never have overstepped a single boundary she didn’t knock over herself and drag him across.

If she’d insisted on staying outside the gates, he’d have brought her gifts, wherever she was outside. Just for a smile or five minutes of her company. If she’d stayed right here and taken his kindness but never shown him a shred of encouragement, he’d have taken her friendship and treasured that. If she’d sworn she’d never overcome her hang-ups to manage anything but kisses, he’d have given her everything he had to give and taken what scraps of love she chose to show him in return.

Daryl was a giver. Every inch. No one had ever given Kit anything much, in her whole life, up to this point but certainly no one had lavished as much time and energy on causing her utter, complete and overwhelming ecstasy. She had never been truly loved by anyone before and it was amazing to discover that the one man she loved, who loved her back, was so, so good at giving his love. To some degree, his selflessness was quite selfish really, she supposed. It was quite clear that his greatest pleasure was in being the sole cause of hers.

“God I love you, you selfish bastard.” She laughed to herself, in the privacy of her own head, as Daryl pushed her unceremoniously off the edge again. Rarely the mistress of her own body, for the last twenty minutes or so, she spasmed uncontrollably and screamed his name incoherently for the second or third time…. But who was counting.

\-----------------

Well that was three, he thought with a smile, as he lapped hungrily at the honey-pot. He’d set himself a target after the first one. His jaw had started to ache a little but two seemed like a bad number to stop on and it wasn’t quite unbearable by then, he figured he’d push on for three. God knows where it was all coming from but the well kept him fortified for the job, so he figured he may as well put in some practice early and build himself a real skill set. He didn’t want any arguments next time he wanted a taste.

By the time he made his way back up her body, she was a sweat soaked, shattered, mess. Barely aware of the world around her, her eyes were still rolling around and she found it hard to focus and concentrate. He brushed her hair back from her forehead and bent his neck to kiss her, long and sweet.

“Mmmmh.” She moaned, tasting her own nectar on his tongue. He released her briefly and was happy to see her a little more ‘present’.

Touching her hand to her lips she asked. “Is that me?”

“Mmmm hmmm, only saved ya a little.” He crooned. “Rest was mine!” He added with a possessive growl and a cupping of her breast.

“You really like that?” She asked, still a little dismayed by the whole idea.

“Mmmmh.” He replied. “Ambrosia….food of the fuckin’ gods sweetheart.” He mumbled, nibbling on her ear lobe.

Kit laughed and drew her legs up on either side of his body, her toes meeting across his back briefly, as she pulled him down further onto her.

“Well, I seem to remember we both quite liked this too.” She purred, as the tip of his cock pressed against her inner thigh.

He’d been rock hard for ten minutes or more already and daren’t hope that he’d last half as long as he’d managed last time but she was already well and truly taken care of, so that didn’t matter so much.

“Mmmmh.” Daryl responded happily, reaching down to line himself up. “Reckon you might be right there.”

\---------------

She watched him sleep in the pale light of the first rays of sun. She would usually take any opportunity for a sleep in and neither of them had anywhere to be today, so she could have slept on for hours. Except she couldn’t.

Some kind of crazy dam had burst inside her and the need she suddenly felt, crashing through her whole being, just wouldn’t give her more than a few hours of respite before making its presence felt. Apparently three or four hours of sleep were her limit. Then she needed another fix.

The first time she’d woken up, while it had still been dark, the memories of what she and Daryl had shared, just a few hours earlier, had pushed her to breaking. She’d known it was unfair to rob him of his rest but she needed to touch, needed to feel the body of the man she loved. The man who loved her back and in the most amazing ways she could have ever imagined.

After almost an hour of earth shattering, knackering, bliss, she’d assumed that when they’d fallen, utterly spent, into peaceful sleep, it would be a long time before she woke again. But here she was, just a few hours later, sun not even up yet, wide eyed and bushy tailed, desperately hoping to wake him with her piercing stare.

She hoped she’d get an opportunity to explore his body a little more thoroughly soon. He’d certainly had his turn exploring hers and she couldn’t complain at all about that. She hoped he’d let her ‘play’ a little with his too. She’d never held a penis in her entire life and as she’d already had the pleasure of it inside her, she definitely wanted to get to know Daryl’s a hell of a lot better.

Kit had avoided swapping sex stories with friends, obviously and had only a few examples of such stories to go on. She knew about blow jobs of course but she’d never imagined that such a bizarre concept would ever impact on her life. Even after the world had fallen apart and she’d realised that the group she was in would soon be a dangerous one in which to be a woman. She’d got out as soon as she could, definitely unwilling to be forced into anything against her will.

She’d spent the last three years promising herself that if she ever found herself in that situation, one where she was to be used for sex, or have to do anything degrading for some disgusting man, to survive, she’d end it quickly, by her own hand, before she’d allow any man to force himself on her. She wouldn’t have lived to be forced to her knees or have some random rapist’s cock shoved in her mouth, or anywhere else. She'd promised herself and she'd fully intended to keep that promise.

Now however, she felt like she might be very much up for trying some new things. The flood-gates had definitely burst. She was incredibly curious to know if she could give Daryl even half as much pleasure as she’d already had at his hands (and mouth). She also definitely felt like she owed this particular dick a friendly stroke and a kiss or two, just in thanks for what it had done for her last night. She was both surprised at herself and delighted, to find that she found herself rather intrigued by the prospects that would have disgusted her two weeks ago and still would, with any other man on Earth.

She laughed at herself and the sex-addled filth she was suddenly finding occupying her, previously quite innocent, brain. She’d only had two so far but she definitely needed another shag and preferably a boatload more orgasms and soon. God she hoped he’d wake up, of his own accord quickly, or she might have to start taking some liberties…. Again.


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to split this up but haven't had much time for editing this week so I'm just going to put it all up in a oner. It's a longer chapter as a result but maybe not as carefully written, as it's basically just the raw first draft. Anyway, hope you like it - thanks for reading as always.

Daryl woke to find himself alone in the bed, half covered by the sheet and bathed in the weak morning light of the very earliest rays of sunlight. His arms were empty and even though it was only his second night spent with Kit since Garvey, he missed her instantly. She wasn’t far. He heard her muffled voice, out in the main room, beyond the door that was currently shut tight.   

He figured he’d better stay in here and quiet, in case she was chatting to someone, other than just the dog. He did need a piss though, so he snuck out of bed and across to the bathroom as quiet as he could manage (which was pretty damned quiet, if he did say so himself) and closed the door carefully to add another sound barrier, before relieving himself and cleaning up a little.

Glancing in the mirror, he was amused to find that his hair had dried rather haphazardly last night and couldn’t wait to see the state of hers. He smiled to think that she’d probably be all precious and girlie about it. Like she had been, when she’d been shocked at the state of herself, after her illness. Looking back, he realised now that she’d been embarrassed that he’d seen her like that. He knew now, that she’d loved him even then. She’d had no idea that he already felt the same way about her and that he didn’t give a shit what she looked like, any more than she had that first day she’d found him. As long as she was breathing, as long as she could smile at him and treat him like he mattered and make his legs go weak at the knees with just a look. She could shave her head for all he cared. Dye it green. She could crawl through mud and blood and shit and vomit and she’d still have the same effect on him. She’d hate it though. He couldn’t wait for that embarrassed little look of hers, it was so fucking adorable.

He smiled at the face staring back at him, as he quietly brushed his teeth, it seemed to belong to another man. A man who hadn’t had Daryl Dixon’s life. He wondered who this guy was. He seemed happy. Secure. He seemed content. He seemed like the kind of guy who knew what he wanted and already had it. The kind of guy who’d married his high school sweetheart, straight out of school and lucked the fuck out ‘cause she was the best girl in the whole fucking world and he’d never regretted a day of their life together since. He looked like the lucky bastard who had it all figured out.

He wasn’t that guy. That wasn’t his history, or hers, more’s the pity. But he realised with a rush that that’s how she made him feel. No… that’s how loving her made him feel. He was Daryl Dixon. He hadn’t had an easy life, or even a remotely good one, even before. He’d had a pretty epically crappy one since, along with everyone else. None of it mattered. He had her now and for the first time he had a right and a reason to be happy, to be content, to be that lucky ass son of a bitch in the mirror.

He was roused from his thoughts by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Slowly, he inched to the door and hearing no more voices, he tentatively opened it.

“Hi.” She beamed at the sight of him and his knees instantly threatened to buckle.

He pushed on into the room, wanting as little distance between them as possible. “Hey beautiful.” He replied, reaching for that gorgeous face, framed by crazy hair that looked like someone had spent serious time backcombing and hair spraying to get that effect. He claimed her smiling lips and felt like a fucking god. Until he realised, as she wrapped her arms around him, that he hadn’t yet thought to put on a stitch of clothing.

_____________

 

Kit had heard the dog scrabble towards the main door and realised with a pang of guilt, that she hadn’t seen the animal at all since early yesterday afternoon. She knew that Aaron and Eric would’ve looked after her but it wasn’t the same. They’d been inseparable since the air force base but since arriving here, Kit had let her be minded by strangers. She hadn’t seemed at all to mind. She’d only left her with those people she’d seemed to like and respect but that didn’t assuage the guilt she felt for neglecting her friend.

She carefully snuck out of bed and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Looking back from the door, she saw Daryl, still her peaceful, sleeping angel; looking for all the world like butter wouldn’t melt. With one last wistful smile, she slipped out of the door, as quietly as possible.

The first thing she noticed was the note on the arm of the sofa, next to the main door. Picking it up swiftly, she scanned the message:

“Didn’t want to wake you. We borrowed the dog again. Hope that’s OK. We’ll be back early afternoon. xE&Ax”

She rushed to the door to catch them before they left. To at least show her face and give her consent to their borrowing the dog. To give false excuses for not being around when they’d returned last evening. “A headache.” She’d said.

The men had smiled and nodded along politely. They’d told her their plans for the day and how useful the dog would be to them. Thanked her and taken their leave. The dog had rubbed her legs, leaned in as Kit scruffed her ears and watched as the humans exchanged their words. And then she’d trotted after her two new friends, with just one backwards glance to check that it was allowed.

The dog would, of course, know who was asleep in Kit’s bed. She’d known they wouldn’t be able to conceal anything from that nose. But she hadn’t expected Eric and Aaron to catch on quite so quickly. She returned to the house and made her way back to Daryl. She’d expected to find him where she’d left him and she’d been disappointed by an empty bed for half a second before he’d opened the door to the en-suite and cheered her morning considerably. Not just with his presence and his smiling greeting but with the sight, she’d never sear off her retinas now, of his full frontal stark bollock nakedness.

She kissed him back and laughed at his sudden recoil in her arms. His sudden realisation that he’d given her rather more to deal with this early in the morning, in his greeting just now, than he’d probably intended to.   

“Well that’s a way to start the day.” She breathed, through smiling lips, as she refused to release him from her grip. “Hello sailor.” She giggled with a raised eyebrow. “We appear to be at half mast already!”

“Crap, I’m sorry..I uh..”

“Don’t be.” She replied, refusing to allow him to apologise for something that should be natural, normal, entirely acceptable within any couple’s relationship. “I’m not.” She whispered in his ear before letting him go and returning to the bed with a dramatic flop.

Daryl was glad she wasn’t freaking out over the sight of a naked man in her room. Something he imagined must be rather unique in her experience but he could see something was bothering her. He put his own embarrassment, at accidentally having shown far more skin than he’d ever been used to and joined her on the bed. Quickly pulling the sheet over himself he asked “What’s wrong?”

“Eric and Aaron know.” She replied, passing him the note.

“This don’t signify much.” He commented on the contents. “Was that them?” He asked, indicating the French doors. “They say sumthin?”

“No but they know.” She sighed.

“They won’t say nuthin’ ‘til we do.” He assured.

“I know.”

“Ain’t so bad is it?”

“No.” She replied. “It’s not. I just… I wanted to keep this just for us, just for a little while… and we got busted on day one.” She smiled a little defeated.

Daryl moved closer. “Well…” He began, running his hand up her thigh. “Guess they’re out ‘til this afternoon.” He was overjoyed to find her hips naked, only the t-shirt to strip her of. “Guess we could make that time count.”

Kit laughed at his coaxing tone and raised her arms, allowing him to strip her completely and finding herself surprisingly OK with his eyes on her body, taking her in, as she had just done with him in that split second by the bathroom door.

Neither of them would be considered perfect or exceptional physical specimens by anyone but each other. A bit of asymmetry here, a scar or a boatload of stretch marks there. Big-ish tits but rather weighed down by gravity and age, she’d thought but Daryl couldn’t seem to leave them alone. On his side, what she’d now seen was a perfectly average looking dick, size-wise, as far as she could tell but one she knew could reach the very end of her and leave her panting for more.

Their bodies were nothing much to themselves. Just the vessels they navigated the world in. The witnesses to all the ugliness and pain they’d experienced and survived in their lives before they met. But brought together, these vessels became temples, alters upon which to worship. The adoring gaze of the man who loved her couldn’t shame her, couldn’t diminish her, could only bring her peace and joy. She hoped and suspected her gaze did the same for him.

He was right. They did have the morning and they should use it.

They spent the morning, mostly on the bed, exploring each other’s bodies. Lips and tongues and caressing hands. Kit asked Daryl to show her how to please him with her hands, the way he’d instinctively known how to pull her apart and drag orgasm after orgasm out of her the night before.

He’d been a little reticent to begin with. Unwilling to make her do anything she didn’t need to for him. Assuring her that the sight of her and a few kisses were all he’d ever need to get in the mood. But she’d convinced him of her genuine desire to know his body as well as he knew hers. He’d ‘shown her the ropes’, as rick might have put it and let her take over. What she lacked in skill and experience, she’d made up for in enthusiasm. Daryl couldn’t fault her work ethic and pretty soon she was top of the class and had him dancing to her tune.

Kit had been over the moon to discover that she could actually make Daryl’s dick grow, as well as harden. Easily an extra inch of length and girth, after her ministrations, wiith Daryl at ‘full mast’ they’d tried a few different positions and settled on a couple of early favourites. Deciding between them, that they’d figure out the Kama Sutra between them, in the next few days and weeks. Both determined to make up for lost time and wasted years.

Kit thought maybe they’d stumbled across her G-spot somewhere there towards the end but Daryl was too close to his own tipping point and she shelved the position for now, they could circle back to it later, when they had more time to play with.

In the afterglow of that session, she let him rest while she made breakfast and cleaned up in the bathroom. She walked around naked, completely un-selfconsciously, like it was the most natural thing in the world to her. Returning to the bed with a big bowl of porridge, they’d talked about what they’d do for the next few days, planned a hunting trip out tomorrow, if they could organise it all in time.

As Daryl’s strength returned, their breakfast had become more playful, however. They’d gone from feeding each other with the spoon, to feeding themselves by smearing the (by now luke-warm) contents of the spoon onto each other’s exposed body parts and licking them off. Daryl’s portions made their way, inevitably, further and further south, until he ran out of porridge and gave up the excuse to openly go down on her again.

Unwilling to allow him to have all the fun of causing her pure ecstasy, Kit repositioned herself to allow him access to her but allow her to reach his dick too. She put her newly acquired skills to practice again and soon Daryl was moaning between her legs, not just because he could taste her juices flowing but because she had him rock hard and bucking against her hand.

Repositioning again, Kit steeled herself for some kind of recoil or objection but pushed on anyway. She’d seen the beads of pre-cum glistening on his head and was desperate now, to know his taste. Daryl was milking her like there was no tomorrow after all. He seemed addicted to her juices and it only seemed fair to Kit, that she should get to try his too.

If she expected him to fight her intrusion, she was in for a surprise. Daryl knew what was going on but was far too occupied himself to raise any objection, even if he’d really wanted to and honestly, the ‘intrusion’ was hardly one of a non-pleasurable kind. There was no fight. If she wanted to suck his cock he was going to let her get on with it. Wasn’t like it ever had been with any other woman. He didn’t feel like he was using her. Didn’t feel ashamed while she wrapped her lips around him and licked across his head. This wasn’t a dive bar, she wasn’t a skank he’d never see again after today.

She played with pressure and tried a few things out, to see how they felt to her and what affect they had on him. She grew in confidence quickly and soon found herself having to deal with his bucking hips, unconsciously trying to fuck her throat. She panicked a little to start with but realised quickly that she could just pull away, any time. He wasn’t going to force her to do anything. This was all her doing. His body was just moving in a reflex motion. Acting on biological instinct. If she pulled away he’d let it go. He had other fish to fry. The thought of being in control relaxed her and in turn, she relaxed her throat and tongue and found that she could easily take two thirds of him in the next thrust as a result.

As he forced another shuddering, screaming orgasm out of her, Kit had to jettison his cock to prevent herself from biting it in half. When she recovered the power of sight and control of her own eyeballs, it was to watch Daryl stroking the last few spurts of his own orgasm, just inches from her face. She heard the soft splatter of his seed hitting his convulsing abdomen, as the man himself groaned by her hips. Without even thinking about it, she reached out to wipe her finger in the goo, pooling near his naval and brought the fluid to her mouth.

Salt and earth and something vaguely metallic in the background. Not exactly the stuff of her wildest ‘sweetie aisle’ dreams. Hardly a bag of Galaxy Minstrels or a bar of Dairy Milk and definitely not Thorntons’ pralines but definitely a taste she could get used to and grow to love. As she turned over to get closer to the source, she saw Daryl’s blissed out but still vaguely incredulous look, as she bent to lick him clean. She smiled, like the wanton little slut she dared to be for him and he collapsed back onto the bed with an exhausted little laugh, letting her do whatever the fuck she wanted.


	59. Chapter 59

Waking from another much needed nap, Daryl watched Kit emerge from the bathroom. She was disappointingly clothed and her hair had been freshly washed. He stretched lazily... happily and enjoyed the fact that his shoulder felt much looser, after her ministrations the day before. He also immensely enjoyed the fact that he now knew exactly what was going on under that blouse and those cut-off pants. Every glorious inch of her, every part. She was towel drying her hair, as she came into the room and smiled noticing him awake again and watching her.

“You could have told me my hair looked like a bloody birds nest.” She scolded, throwing the towel in his general direction, in mock annoyance.

“I liked it.” He laughed back. “Wouldn’t a helped any with Aaron and Eric anyway. I was still out like a light when you were talkin' ta them remember?”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” She shook her head, sporting that adorable embarrassed little look that Daryl loved so much. “Why d’you have to sleep so bloody much?” She accused jokingly as she sat on the bed next to him.

“Can’t help it.” He replied, leaning over to give her a quick kiss and moving to join her on the edge of the bed himself. “You keep tiring me out.”

As Daryl made his way towards the bathroom himself, Kit flicked his retreating butt with the damp towel. They laughed good naturedly at each other and Kit threw him the towel as he disappeared into the en suite.

“Tea?” She called as she passed the door on her way to the livingroom.

“Sounds good.” He replied.

They both had plans for the rest of the day and preparations to make for tomorrow’s hunt. As fun as it had been, spending such quality time together, exploring each other and their new-found intimacy, in the privacy of their own space, it couldn’t realistically last ALL day. More’s the pity. Kit smiled to herself as she settled into the domesticity of making tea and thought how much sweeter tonight’s reunion would be, for having each been occupied with other tasks for the rest of this afternoon.

\--------------

“Where the hell you bin?” Michonne spat from the other side of the hallway. Looking him up and down and spying the shirt she’d last seen on Kit two mornings ago, she corrected herself. “As if I needed to ask.”

“Workin’ on Kit’s place.” Daryl responded shortly. Noticing her raised eyebrow at the shirt he wore, he pulled his own from the back of his waistband and brandished it. “Ruined my shirt, luckily she had one would fit.” Bullet dodged, or so he thought, he made his way to the stairs.

“Hmmm, yeah. Real lucky. Fits just like it belonged to you.” She continued in a catty tone.

“What the hell crawled up your butt anyway?” Daryl snapped, losing patience with Michonne’s attitude and not wanting to stretch this little back-and-forth any more and have to dissemble even further.

“It might have escaped your notice but Rick lost his only son yesterday.” She replied.

“Yeah, I was there when he left. Was you told me to stay outta the way. “Give him time with Judy”, you said, so I made myself scarce. What? Now you’re gonna give me shit for doin’ what you asked?”

She shook her head and seemed to deflate a little in front of him, making Daryl regret the harshness of his own tone. It must have been difficult here yesterday and this morning and it wasn’t as if he’d actually made himself scarce entirely for Rick’s benefit. If truth be told, Daryl had hardly given him or anyone else, a passing thought for the past twenty-four hours.

“Mm sorry.” He offered, stepping forward and trying to catch her eye. “Must a bin a tough day here. I should a stopped by earlier to check in.”

“No..” Michonne sighed and met his gaze apologetically. “It’s not you… I’m sorry… Shouldn’t take it out on you, I did tell you to give him space. I just… I guess I should have taken my own advice.”

Daryl had never seen Michonne look so lost or defeated. Even in the face of Negan, she’d been fierce and unbending. He’d never seen the woman so in need of a hug. He pulled her into his arms and was shocked to find no resistance to the offered comfort. She let the tension coursing through her melt, just a little and rested her head on his shoulder.

“You alright?” Daryl asked, genuinely rather panicked by this vulnerable Michonne.

“I miss him too, you know?... I thought we were a family but he won’t let me in.” She whispered in a small voice.

Daryl brought his hand up to gently stroke her head and swore that whatever the fuck happened to them in the future, he would never freeze Kit out like this. He’d let her share his hurts, just like he’d want to share hers and no other man would ever have to comfort her for want of his shoulder to cry on. Not that Michonne was crying, that really would be reason to be terrified.

\---------------

He knocked lightly but didn’t wait before opening the door. He didn’t want to give Rick the opportunity to shut him out too. The man himself was on the opposite side of the room, playing with his daughter, on the floor by the window.

Apparently it hadn’t been the most engrossing pastime for the toddler, who had been shut up with only her dad for company, for most of the preceeding twenty-four hours. She scrambled madly towards Daryl as soon as she caught sight of him, shouting “Dawil” repeatedly, all the way.

“Hey there Li’l Ass Kicker.” He greeted, sweeping her up into his arms. She grasped his neck with pudgy little arms and kissed him sloppily. “Ya miss me?” He nodded over towards Rick. “Looks like you and your daddy been havin’ fun playin’?” He asked the girl. Both she and her father looked a little dubious at that.

“Hmmm. Well I reckon Michonne’s got some lunch for ya … you wanna go eat with her?” Noticing Rick’s discomfort and the fact that he seemed to be about ready to get up from the floor, Daryl span on his heels and handed an overjoyed Judith to Michonne at the door. “Misho!!!” She burbled, grabbing for the woman, who would be the closest thing to a mother that she would ever remember. Michonne took her gratefully and swept her off towards the stairs, as Rick quickly approached. Daryl blocked his path and closed the door swiftly behind him, preventing Rick from following or trying to grab Judy back from Michonne.

“What the hell?” He groused angrily. “Get outa the way.”

Rick tried to pass but was easily dissuaded by a very determined look in Daryl’s eye and a strong arm stretched across his path and gripping the door frame in front of him.

“What are you doin’ up here man?” Daryl asked quietly. Rick backed away, averted his eyes and started fidgeting awkwardly. “Carl ain’t dead Rick. Ain’t no need to grieve like he is.. Freakin’ Judy out.”

That earned a sharp look from across the room. “I’m just spending some time with my daughter. You got problems with that?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Daryl replied, leaning against the tallboy by the door. “Kid ain’t used to bein’ stuck with just one sad guy Rick, even if he is her daddy.”

Rick shook his head and scratched at the back of his neck. He knew he was being nuts, just needed calling out on it.

“She’s used to having a family man. A big fuckin’ family…. She’s used to lots of people who love her and deserve some o’ her attention too.” Rick turned away towards the window. “Guess her daddy’s a little older and set in his ways or some shit, ‘cause ‘parently he ain’t got the memo on that yet but the same shit goes for him too.”

Rick let out a laugh at that, still trying to fight against the rational. “What? You come here to tell me you love me did ya?”

“Nope.” Daryl shot back. “I guess you’re alright… most the time… as brothers go.” He clarified. “But I wouldn’t put up with your shit the way Michonne does. SHE fuckin’ loves ya, ya dumb shit. Closest thing Judy’s ever had for a mama and she’s hurtin’ ‘cause you’re not the only person in this house who’s missin’ your boy, you selfish son of a bitch.”

Daryl stood now, finally having raised his voice, slightly above his calm, measured, starting point. Rick was still facing to look out of the window but with every word Daryl had uttered he seemed to diminish slightly. To collapse a little further in on himself.

“I get it. It’s hard. I do get it.” He approached slowly and didn’t reach out to touch the other man’s shoulder, didn’t try to crowd him. Just rested his butt on the footboard of the bed, close enough so Rick could feel him there. “You got responsibilities, duties that weigh you down and now your boy’s gone and you want some time to just fall apart and be a mess.”

Daryl’s words were softer now, more coaxing. He’d never had to talk Rick around before, there’d always been someone better suited to it to do the honours but he was that person now. He’d known Rick since the start. He understood the journey and knew exactly what it had taken to get here. He’d shared the weight and shouldered some of the burdens himself, those he could but it had been Rick’s ship. They’d all let it be Rick’s ship, unwilling to take the heavy responsibility themselves and Daryl had let him take it the longest.

“That’s fine man.” Daryl stated. “Here, it’s fine…. Got enough people know their asses from their elbow. You can be a mess for a few days. Take the time. You fuckin’ deserve it. Knock yourself out.” Rick began to tentatively regain a little of his stature and start to look around a little disbelievingly at what he was hearing.

“Just don’t freeze out the people who love you.” Daryl caught Rick’s eye and nodded. “Freezin’ me out? Whatever… who gives a fuck, water of a duck’s back but Tara? ‘s like kickin’ a puppy and Michonne?.... Don’t even get me started on that shit man… that’s just wrong. Just had her huggin’ me like a fuckin’ limpet in the corridor man. That shit’s just weird.”

Rick laughed briefly but his eyes were quickly filled with appropriate levels of concern and guilt. Daryl figured his work here was done if he’d managed to snap Rick back into caring about the people around him and paying attention to those who really deserved it.

“She OK?” He asked, almost in a whisper.

“Reckon she will be.” Daryl replied. “’f you can see your way clear ta pullin’ your head out your ass and havin’ some lunch with the TWO ladies in your life.”

The two men, smiled briefly and clapped each other on the back in a brief walking embrace, as they made their way to the door. Daryl stopped short and motioned for Rick to go first. “After you, asshole.” He said.

Rick nodded as he walked ahead. “Hmm, I guess that’s fair.” He laughed.


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya. Right, sorry for doing this but this next section splits up nicely into two shorter chapters so I'm going to post the first half up now and the second half up (after edits) at the weekend and hopefully get myself back into doing 2 chapters a week again (maybe/possibly/conceivably).

Eric and Aaron had obviously been surprised to find Kit’s note by their back door when they returned home. When she’d returned herself, an hour later, they were even more surprised to find her alone. They didn’t say anything, didn’t pry but she could see the question burning on the tips of their tongues.

“So… uh… you’ve been working in the garden today?” Aaron had asked, eyeing the hessian shopping bag full of veg, as she came through the gate.

After her reunion with the dog, she’d shared out the produce, while listening to their adventures beyond the wall yesterday and this morning. They’d had a busy couple of days and Kit felt that she owed them some payback for their kindnesses to her so far. She offered to make an early dinner for them all. They’d wondered why she’d specified an ‘early’ dinner and she’d finally been forced to utter Daryl’s name.

“A hunt?” Eric asked.

“Been a while since Daryl went out.” Aaron explained. “Took Michonne with him last time.”

“Wouldn’t take Aaron.” Eric laughed. “Said he was about as stealthy as ‘a heard of fuckin’ elephants’ in the woods.” He finished, with a truly terrible approximation of Daryl’s gruff tone. The two men laughed together, that same teasing, intimate laugh Kit had shared with Daryl earlier the same day. She smiled at the memory.

“They didn’t come back with much.” Aaron warned.

“I expect not.” She replied. “Michonne told me how she scored a lucky shot nearby once but we’re thinking we’ll need to go much further out to find the numbers we need for the whole community for more than one meal. There won’t be much living on the doorstep now, when they have an abandoned world to choose from. The further we get from populated areas, the less walkers there’ll be and the more wildlife.”

“Hmmm.” Aaron mused. “How far’s that, d’you think?”

“Daryl marked some likely looking spots on a map a while ago but hasn’t had a chance to check them out, he said… I know one of them has too many dead roaming around for there to be much game but there’s some woods about twenty miles to the east of here that look likely.”

“Yeah?” Eric asked.

“Mmmm, I didn’t get near myself but I passed by the area and it’s elevated and pretty unpopulated before the outbreak, so there’s a good chance there wouldn’t be many dead wandering around the area. No obvious shelter or resources for humans either, unless they know what they’re doing out in the wild, most people would just move on.”

“That’s possible though isn’t it? People like you and Daryl might’ve made a beeline for a place like that?” Aaron seemed worried.

“True.” Kit agreed. “But this isn’t the kind of area that people like us would live in. No real backwoods communities around here. The occasional ‘weekend warrior’ maybe, hobbyists but really this is the ‘burbs’. They’d have had to be lucky to last this long in one place and without joining up with a larger group at some point…. It’s possible though.” She shrugged. “We’ll be careful.”  

“You’d better be.” Eric warned. “We were just starting to like having you around.”

“Take one of the new radios, so we can keep in touch via the HAM yeah?” Aaron interjected, practical as ever.

“We will… That was on Daryl’s list of jobs for this afternoon.” She smiled at both men, thanking them for their concern and promised to be back to cook for them later.

\--------------

By the time Daryl returned ‘home’ Kit had prepared a small pack of provisions and camping equipment they’d need and packed it all in the landy, leaving ample room for Daryl’s bow, sleeping bag and other gear. She’d headed for the main house and dinner was well underway when she spied him briefly, crossing the short distance of the garden in front of her house that was actually visible from their neighbours’ kitchen. She knocked on the window to get his attention, as he stopped to greet the dog. Spying her, he changed his route.

“Hey.” He greeted from the door.

“I offered to cook.” She smiled back at him, by way of explanation. “Sounds like they had a pretty productive day and they’re pretty tired. I figured we could all do with an early dinner before an early night.” She finished, with a naughty little smile curling her lip.

“Hmmm, sounds like a plan.” He teased back at her, before visibly stiffening and looking a little uncomfortable, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, as Eric walked in

“Oh hey Daryl…. I thought I heard voices.” The man smiled, all ready to enjoy the hell out of some sexual tension. “You’ll join us right? Kit made enough for all of us, we just weren’t sure when you’d be back.”

This meal had been rather different from the first they’d had all together. There was plenty to talk about and their plans for the hunt took up much of the conversation but Kit and Daryl were both very careful not to look at each other much and it was Kit who was left to do most of the talking. That was fine, she was obviously getting better at social interaction and Daryl nodded along or provided further detail when one of the other men asked but he didn’t trust himself to lead the conversation and he definitely didn’t trust himself to meet Kit’s eye in front of company.

Eric was absolutely loving it. It was SO obvious now that Kit and Daryl were a bona fide item. He had absolutely no doubt that Daryl had indeed been responsible for the orgasmic noises he’d heard the night before and he was positive that the ‘headache’ and the wild hair of this morning’s little conversation with Kit in the garden had basically been code for: “Daryl and I have been shagging like rabbits all night and he’s currently sleeping the last session off in my bed.”

Aaron was loving it too but he was more than ready to help these two love birds out by reigning his partner in and allowing the meal to be a quick affair. The interval between them seeing each other again, after a few hours’ separation and actually getting to spend time alone, without an audience, was probably pretty painful. He knew neither Daryl nor Kit were stupid and must know that they knew but they obviously weren’t ready to be ‘out’ as a couple yet. He did feel for them. Two loners, struggling to deal with a new relationship, in a place where they’d get no peace and no privacy while they did so. He could understand the need for a two day hunt, somewhere far away. He just hoped they’d be as careful as Kit had promised.

\--------------

As Kit and Eric cleared the dishes and washed up in the kitchen, Aaron had called Daryl into the den saying he had a favour to ask. Kit hadn’t thought anything of it and had struggled to compose herself as Eric enjoyed prodding, with the odd phrasing and innuendos that made it VERY clear that he knew that she knew that he knew etc. She was relieved when Daryl returned and they had an excuse to leave early to prepare for a very early start in the morning. The only thing that bothered her a little was the set of Daryl’s jaw and the fact that he wouldn’t meet her eye and apparently didn't feel the need to say his goodnights to their neighbours.

“Well goodnight then.” Kit said hurriedly, brushing over the fact that Daryl had just walked straight out with barely a wave and not a single word.

“You know, we have a spare room here, if you’d rather have your own space tonight.” Eric teased. “Daryl’s more than welcome to stay here?”

“Thanks, but it’s an early start, we wouldn’t want to disturb you.” She shot back, having been more than ready for that approach. “And the couch is pretty comfy apparently.” She added with a sweet smile, as she left.

“I just bet it is.” Eric smiled, as the screen door banged closed behind her. “Bet the dog loves it.” He added in a sidelong grin towards Aaron, who shook his head but couldn’t help a sly smile.

"I take it you gave Daryl our 'gift' then?" Eric asked, still in a playful mood.

\--------------

Kit saw Daryl disappear into the house as she left Aaron and Eric’s. Well, at least he wasn’t storming out of the garden, whatever it was, it wasn't quite that bad at least but something had definitely riled him back there. She hoped it was nothing she’d done and followed him inside to face the music.

She found him, roughly pulling out the odd shirt or bundle of underwear from his pack and shoving them angrily into the drawer they’d decided he should use in her bureau. She approached him slowly, carefully but completely without fear. He might be angry. Might even be angry with her – who knew – but he’d never lay a hand on her (not like that) and they both knew it.

“Hey?” She crooned, running her hand up his arm to his tense shoulder. “What’s up with your face eh?”

He stopped what he was doing, bowed his head a little and seemed to deflate, as he let her gently turn him towards her and accepted her embrace.

“I bin so stupid.” He croaked.

“Why? What have you done? Did Aaron say something to set this off?”

Daryl half nodded at that and pulled a plastic bag out of the pack, by way of explanation.

“Gave me this. Said they found ‘em while they was out. Forgot to leave ‘em at the storehouse. Asked if I’d drop ‘em there on our way out tomorrow.”

Kit took the bag and opened it, to see what on earth could have got him so wound up in only a few minutes. She was puzzled at first. It was dark and she couldn’t make out the branding or wording on the small cardboard cartons in the bag but there were smaller packets too, little plastic foil-feeling packets with something circular, malleable and rubbery to the touch inside. She pulled one out in disbelief, as the realisation hit her. Condoms. A whole bag of condoms. The shock of the realisation of what this meant must have flooded her face because Daryl reacted to it instantly.


	61. Chapter 61

“I’m so sorry.” He rushed to comfort her. “I swear, I ain’t never bin with anyone without one o’ these fuckers before but I don’t know, I guess it’s bin so long.. I don’t know what I was thinkin’, I let it go that far….” He seemed to catch his words at the enormity of it. “Three times… it’s bin three ain’t it?” She nodded. “Didn’t even try ta pull out, couldn’t have if I’d wanted to but I didn’t even try Kit, I’m so sorry…. I didn’t even think about it… got so fuckin’ carried away it didn’t even occur to me… all this time, til Aaron handed me this fuckin’ bag.”

It hadn’t occurred to Kit either. What they were risking every time Daryl had ejaculated inside her. It wasn’t his fault, not solely, she was an adult, she’d been there too. Of course he felt responsible, that was just Daryl, he couldn’t help but carry the guilt but as inexperienced as Kit was, she wasn’t a fucking moron. She knew what safe sex was and why it was important. She’d changed school three times between the age of ten and thirteen and got three different versions of ‘sex education’, she probably knew more about the theory than Daryl did. They’d both been stupid. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“It’s not just your fault Daryl. It didn’t occur to me either.” He sat down hard on the foot of the bed and Kit briefly worried that he’d go through the slats.

She clutched the condom tight in her hand, anchoring herself literally to the problem ‘in hand’. “Do they have the morning after pill in the stores, d’you think?” She asked.

“I…. I don’t know.” He shook his head and briefly met her eyes with a guilt-ridden, pleading look. “Ain’t never had no cause to look.”

“Alright, well…” she began “We’ll just have a look when we drop these off tomorrow morning.” She nodded to him. “If they do, great! If they don’t then we’ll need to check out every likely looking chemists on the way tomorrow.” She smiled, much happier now she was on a roll, with a plan.

“An’ what if we don’t find any?” He asked.

“Then we could bin the hunt and go to Hilltop or the Kingdom to see what they’ve got?” She sat beside him. “That seems extreme though… I mean what are the chances anyway? I’m…. well…. I’m either thirty-seven or thirty-eight, depending what the date is. Three attempts… you’d be pretty lucky if you were actually trying with those numbers…. Right?”

“I guess.”

“I mean, I think your best chance is during ovulation and that’s mid-cycle. I’m nowhere near.” Kit felt Daryl beginning to get uncomfortable at the mention of her ‘cycle’ but rattled on regardless, she’d just remembered something encouraging.

“Daryl!...” She beamed. “We’ll do our best but don’t worry, we’ll know pretty quickly one way or the other…. I’m due on my period really soon. I’d lost track of the days a bit but…” She mumbled lightly, working it out in her head. “Yes, it should be one or two days from now, at the most.” She beamed at him and he nodded back, willing to trust in the mystical properties of her ‘cycle’.

“Great.” He responded uncertainly.

“Don’t think we can wait ‘til tomorrow though.” Kit mused. “Well I can’t… I’ll never sleep.”

\----------------

Half an hour later, just after sunset Kit and Daryl found themselves searching the shelves of the storehouse frantically. They were a little out of breath, having dashed quickly and quietly and as discreetly as they could manage for two people in such a hurry.  Kit’s whole body stilled and relaxed the second she laid her hands on what she’d been desperately looking for.

“Thank fuck for that.” She whispered, taking one of a hand-full of boxes, sat neatly arranged on the shelf next to the condom and contraceptive pill supply.

“That it?” Daryl asked, rushing over to join her by the shelf.

“Looks like it.” She replied, giving the directions a cursory glance before opening the box then and there to take the little miracle pill that could wipe away utter stupidity.

“Lavonelle.” Daryl mused, taking the box and turning it over nervously. “Sounds like a flower or somethin’.”

He smiled at the relief on her face and kissed her forehead, tucking the empty package into his pocket, as he pulled up the bag. “Better do what we’re supposed to be here for.” He said, reaching into the bag to add the boxes to the supply already on the shelf.

“Ummm,” Kit murmered, stopping his hand with her own. “We don’t need to leave all of them here do we?” She caught his eye, that naughty little twinkle from earlier in the afternoon, somehow still there, despite everything.

“No, uh… I figured you probably wouldn’t be in the mood tonight but we can take a few for later…. If you want?”

“Well, I think that was Aaron’s not-so-subtle intention, don’t you?”

Daryl shook his head with a smile. “Yeah, we ain’t foolin’ anyone in that house, that’s for damn sure…. Reckon this was his way o’ sayin’ we don’t need to say nothin’ ‘til we’re ready.”

“Yeah… code for: “We promise not to grass you up.” Something like that.”

“Somethin’ like that.” He confirmed, inspecting the remaining contents of the bag. One of the bigger boxes, a smaller box and a handful of individual condom packets. Before he had a chance to reach in to put back the bigger box, Kit closed the bag up in her fist.

“I think that’s enough for the community.” She smiled. “It’s a gift. We should take it as a gift.”

Daryl nodded, with a naughty little smile of his own, in response. Kit grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. “Now let’s get back home. I feel like celebrating a lucky escape.” She said. “And learning all about these.” She smiled, holding up the bag.

\-----------------

By now it was definitely dark but still not late. Kit insisted that Daryl needed another massage before he had to sleep on god knows what kind of bed, when they camped the following night. Daryl insisted that he get the same ‘relaxation’ treatment as he’d got the previous evening. Pulling off her own top, Kit smiled and pushed him down onto the bed. She kept the bra on for the tougher part of the massage but removed and placed it next to his head before she lowered herself once again onto his oiled skin.

This time Daryl was ready for it and although he was relaxed and tired after his pummelling, he turned over before she had a chance to lay benignly on his back. Catching her in his strong arms, he pulled her down onto his chest and met her surprised lips with his own. She laughed at his cheek and responded to his kiss, laughing warmly.

“Do we have time for me to learn a bit about contraception?” Kit asked breathlessly, between kisses.

“Reckon we can get by on a couple hours if we have to, don’t you?” He replied happily.

If Eric had wandered around outside their little home, at any point that evening, he’d have had a good chance of hearing plenty of evidence of Daryl and Kit as a couple. Kit was taught how to put a condom on, take a used one off and dispose of it. They both learned that condoms didn’t quite feel as good as skin and they both missed the shared warmth of Daryl’s flooding orgasm. But on the bright side, a condom did seem to have the potential to prolong his erection quite a bit longer than usual. They spent two hours and four of the individual condoms (one of which split before it got near Kit’s vagina – luckily) learning how to have safe sex and still drive each other insane in the process.

Finally, when they were both beyond shattered, they laid cuddled up together and mumbled plans for the next morning. Long minutes passed between sentences and Kit wasn’t sure if Daryl was still awake as she spoke again.

“I’ve never thought about having kids before…. Have you?” She was almost sure she’d been speaking to an unconscious man when his answer came.

“Nah.” He replied. “With all the shitty parenting I saw?… Wouldn’a wanted to inflict that on a kid.”

“You’d be a great dad.” Kit argued. “You’re amazing with Judith, Carl looks up to you. You wouldn’t be like your father Daryl, you wouldn’t.” She assured him. “You’re better than that.”

“Hmmm,” he responded uncertainly. “You thinkin’ ‘bout it now?” He asked, with a note of worry in his voice.

“I don’t know.” She replied. “No, not really, not yet anyway. I never thought about it being possible before though and now I suppose it is. Just made me think I guess. I could have a baby…. If we wanted to… I still CAN, in theory at least.”

“But do you wanna?”

“That’s the question I’ve never needed to ask myself…. I suppose we should think about it.” She hugged him closer, sensing his discomfort at the way this conversation was going. “But not yet, not for a long while. I’m glad we found the pill, I’m glad we have the condoms. I want to be with you, just you. I want to be yours. Your lover, your partner. That’s my main ambition in life right now. I don’t want to have to think about being someone’s mother yet…. Maybe not ever.”

“Good.” Daryl replied, sounding relieved. “Me neither.” He muttered, stroking her arm gently.

“You would make a good dad though.” She insisted. “And a mini-you would be cute as fuck.” She added.

“Mini-YOU would be cute as fuck.” Daryl mumbled back sleepily, as they both finally drifted off.


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I'll manage to keep up the 2perweek flow this weekend I'm afraid. I'll be away but I'll try if I can manage it. Hopefully back into it next week though.

The morning came far too soon but after the briefest of gropes and morning kisses, they both got down to business and they were in the landy and on their way out of the gate in no time. Twenty miles was a long haul over farm tracks and fields but they’d both decided it was worth avoiding main roads and obvious approaches, in favour of ‘back dooring’ any groups that might be watching the roads.

They talked about the hunt, Kit’s work in the garden the day before, Daryl’s crazy turn as some kind of fucked up ‘relationship councillor’ at Rick’s. They both had a good laugh about that. Although Kit was beyond proud of that little bit of security in his own self, shining through and having the confidence to show itself to others. She knew what an understanding, observant and basically ‘good soul’ Daryl possessed. She did wonder though, just how much of a shock it was to his family, to see flashes of it finally shining through on the surface, rather than just as an undertone.

They didn’t see any signs of walkers at all as they got closer to the woods. No human detritus or signs of habitation were evident either and they both took it as encouragement. By the time they were in sight of the thickest looking section of the woods, it was barely ten. They stopped to eat the egg mayonnaise sandwiches Kit had made for them the night before. The carrots they’d snacked on during the drive still packed thick at the bottom of their provisions bag, along with two tins each for dinner and lunch tomorrow, if they failed to catch anything and the remaining heal of bread.

“Mmmm, you put pepper in this?” Daryl asked approvingly. “Real nice.”

“It’d be better with cheese too.” She said, in between mouthfuls.

“Hell I’m just glad they finally figured out how ta make half decent bread.” Daryl replied. You wouldn’t believe how much o’ that first batch o’ good flour we found got wasted on shitty attempts.”

Kit laughed. “I tried to make bread once…. It wasn’t bad.” She smiled. “Wasn’t good either.”

“Cheese is gonna be a fuckin’ challenge.” Daryl grumbled. “Found some a while back… artisan cheese place with a bunch o’ wheels still OK out back…. Most of ‘em were too far gone but some were OK. Just needed the mould scraped off. Didn’t last long though.”

“Did you find their rennet?” Kit asked.

“Huh?”

“Aside from the milk, that’s what you need to make cheese… Rennet…. Did you find some?”

“I dunno.” He answered. “I wasn’t on that run. David told me about it…. Didn’t mention no rennet though.”

“Hmmm, well if anyone knows where that shop is we should go back and get the rennet.” She said. “Then if we ever get a stable source of milk, we can actually make our own cheese.”

“Hilltop got goats.” Daryl replied. “Think they mostly use ‘em for milk… they tried makin cheese I think… figured they must a sucked at it.”

They both laughed and finished their lunch before stretching out and climbing back into the cab to retrieve their gear. The landy was well camouflaged, amongst brush already but they piled more branches on top and Daryl removed the spark plugs to make sure no one wandered off with their ride. They grabbed the spare jerry can of fuel and walked with it and their gear towards the woods, using natural cover as often as they could, to try to prevent themselves being spotted by any potential scouts.

A couple of hundred metres from the landy, Kit placed the can in the lea of a rock and they surrounded it with other rocks and branches from nearby. Anyone siphoning off the landy’s tank would be disappointed by a rather small return for their efforts. The can held almost enough fuel to get them home the way they’d come but in an emergency they could take the main roads and guarantee being able to get home.

The main thicket of the treeline was less than three hundred metres now. Kit reached up on her toes to give Daryl a last care-free kiss. They would both need to be on their toes from now on. They didn’t know this area and they’d need to scope out any potential threats before they could relax enough to make camp, never mind hunt.

\----------------

Apparently Daryl could hunt and scout at the same time, as he managed to bag two squirrels and a rabbit while they carefully reconnoitred the area. Kit didn’t try to compete, she just smiled to see him in his natural element and let him get on with it. Looking around, she could see plenty of evidence of game trails all around her. There would be no shortage of opportunities for bigger kills. Daryl was quickly taking care of their needs for the rest of today. They wouldn’t need to resort to the tins. They could take the time, once they’d scoped the area out properly, to really prepare and plan for an early start tomorrow and a couple of good fresh, early kills in the morning. No need to be greedy. Two medium sized deer would be enough for the community, without adversely affecting this eco-system. This could be the beginning of regular visits and a well-managed, long-term food source for the future.

During their exploration, they were encouraged to find a couple of cabins that looked like they were built by weekend warriors or families who liked back-to-basics breaks in the wilderness from time to time. They were very basic structures, built using the trees around them. However, in one case they found shelter in the form of an ancient airstream, that had seen much better days and seemed like it must have been air-lifted in by aliens or something because there was no obvious way that it had made its way so far in to the woods by land.

None of the structured showed much sign of having been touched by anyone, alive or dead, for many years. The wooden cabins were beginning to go to ruin. The doors had both been breached and the structures had evidence of having been used as shelter by animals, rather than men. The airstream seemed well sealed and stripped almost bare inside. They’d left it sealed up and moved on.

Scratching their heads at the mystery of the seemingly impossible airstream, they’d headed deeper into the forest and up and up to higher ground. It had seemed like some kind of hallucination at first. Having checked, by silent eye-contact, that they were both experiencing the same hallucination however, they moved slowly and carefully towards the source of the sounds. They converged behind the cover of a small embankment, allowing them to peek over the top to view what was going on in the distance without being seen.

“Was that a cow?!?!” Kit hissed, disbelievingly.

Daryl nodded incredulously. "Be careful what you wish for I guess." He replied, referring to their earlier conversation. “And I think I smell pigs?” He whispered in return.

Kit sniffed and realised that she did indeed recognise the slight but very distinct, whiff of the pig farm she’d lived near in Scotland. “Good god!”

They both carefully raised their heads above the parapet, to see what they could see.

\-------------

Heading back down hill, an hour or so later, they’d already decided on the airstream as their best option for now. They needed somewhere well sealed to cook on the little burner they’d brought and left there for the purpose earlier in the day.

“There must’ve been twenty or more pigs?” Kit marvelled. Daryl nodded. “Ten cows I counted.”

“Not just cows neither, some o’ the younger ones were males, not mature yet but definitely bulls in the making.”

“Right.” Kit agreed. “At least two I think and one really small calf. And goats and chickens just bloody everywhere!!!”

“I saw three guys, two women and a kid….. you?” Daryl asked.

“I think there was another kid at one of the windows and there may have been others inside.” She mused in response.

“Looked like maybe gra’ma, gran’pa, parents and kids age-wise. Or the other guy could’a bin a younger brother maybe?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Kit nodded. “Talk about your apocalyptic Waltons.” She laughed, catching his eye and smiling with him at the memory of their conversation, just a few days earlier.

“Well, whoever the fuck they are, they’re well fuckin’ set up.” Daryl stated.

“If anything they’re too well set up.” Kit responded. “They’ve got waaay more animals than they need there, they’re over-run. Someone in there is squeamish about culling what they don’t need and none of those animals looked fat. They’re struggling to keep them fed.”

“Hmmm.” He agreed. “Wasn’t thinking of that though…. We watched for an hour, all around the perimeter… they weren’t looking… they’re well hidden and they know it… noone’s bothered them before and there weren’t none o’ their number outside the perimeter, or someone would’a bin skittish. They were just gettin’ on.”

Kit nodded. “I don’t think they need to leave much. We shouldn’t see them out here unless we’re really unlucky.”

“No.” Daryl agreed. “I think we’re safe enough to stay, safe enough to hunt in the mornin’…don’t think we should approach ourselves yet though.”

“Yeah, no need for us to do the honours.” Kit agreed. “We’ll let Rick and the rest of the community decide when and how.”

“Mmhm.” Daryl slowed and retrieved the kit bag from the bushes nearby, passing his line of kills and his bow to Kit, as he shrugged it onto his back. Taking the line back, he asked; “So, what you want for dinner? Rabbit or squirrel?”


	63. Chapter 63

They were careful with the airstream, this wasn’t the place to find a walker apparently but there was every chance that a snake or some other unsavoury beasties had made a home in such a prize bit of shelter. They took a good look all around before attempting the door. They couldn’t quite believe it but the thing wasn’t even locked and there was barely a squeak from the hinges as Daryl swung it back, quickly raising his bow toward any dangers inside.

Nothing… not even a fly or a hidden bees nest, just nothing. The cushions which should have covered the bench seats were gone but the mattress still graced the bed in the back. It didn’t even look too horrendously dirty. The outside of the airstream may have looked like it’d been through the wars but other than the missing cushions and the bareness of every surface, the inside might have been abandoned yesterday. This place was obviously very much water and weather-tight, definitely a step up from either of the other two structures nearby.

A quick search of the various cupboards and drawers turned up nothing of any great worth. An encrusted frying pan which was no improvement on the cooking pan they’d brought with them, a few cloths, matches, a lighter, a scrubbing brush and an old plastic bucket. They decided that the bucket would be pretty handy, for emergencies during the night and put it in the larger cupboard, which had probably originally been intended for just that purpose.

The one useful find was a gas canister, still half full, attached to the fitted burners in the kitchenette. They looked at each other and shrugged.

“Looks OK.” Daryl said.

“No cracks in the piping or anything.” Kit replied. “Worth a go?”

“Hmm.” Daryl replied. “Just open the door and get ready to run if it takes off.” He instructed, pulling a lighter from his pants pocket.

Kit nodded, she had checked it herself, it did look OK. It was still a bit of a risk but worth a go. She opened the door and threw their kit clear, turning back to Daryl she grabbed his belt tight from behind, ready to pull him clear if there were any bursts of flame. She was relieved when the gas caught and burned with a nice steady flame. Daryl turned and they both laughed at the release of pent up tension.

They decided on squirrel to start with. It wasn’t late yet, they still had plenty of light and had already decided that this would just be a pit-stop and a snack. They’d be heading back out to plan their priorities for the morning and scope out the best looking trails to concentrate on tomorrow. For now though, they enjoyed the downtime and made the best of their home for the night.

While Daryl cooked their snack and prepped their rabbit for later, Kit unzipped their sleeping bags and flattened them out on the bed, as a barrier between them and the dubious mattress. It would certainly be much more comfortable than bare boards though – luxury compared to what they’d expected.

____________

Heading out after their pit-stop, Kit and Daryl checked out two of the closest trails they’d seen. Both had been used since the last time they’d passed by this morning. Definitely encouraging. They tagged a few trees on the route, so they wouldn’t need any more light than that provided by the almost full moon, to find their way. They’d be up and out before dawn to get into the best spots to stalk their prey but Kit was glad that at least it didn’t look like they’d have much trouble getting what they’d come for.

On their way back, they picked up anything that might be noisy and used them, as well as several old cans and bottles, found laying around all three shelters and the encrusted pan from the airstream, to string up as a low-tech proximity alarm. They only had enough to cover the small clearing in front of the airstream but that was all they’d need if walkers happened by. If breathing humans turned up they’d have more to worry about but it did seem unlikely, so they shelved that worry for now.

After stringing up her last line, Kit turned and enjoyed the view of Daryl’s pert arse, as he bent to tie off his own. She’d forgotten that she tended to feel more ‘fruity’ when she was ‘due on’. She’d never actually had access to a real live man, that she actually fancied and knew was ‘up for it’, at these times before. Tomorrow she’d probably be bleeding by lunch time but tonight…. Now…. Different story.

Daryl wasn’t entirely sure what the hell had gotten into her but he wasn’t about to complain. No sooner had he finished tying off his last line, than he found himself being attacked from behind by a ravenous, sex crazed amazon. He knew she was strong but hadn’t expected to be overpowered quite so quickly and completely. She’d pushed him up against the tree and literally had her way right off the bat. It didn’t take him long to get up to speed though. She’d shown her hand and was obviously more than up for some sugar. She literally ordered him to ‘take’ her up against the tree and when she whipped a condom out of her pants pocket, he was more than happy to comply.

Sated and happily blissed out, the two love birds returned to the airstream to check on dinner, which had been very slowly bubbling away on a low, low heat for the past few hours. Rabbit stew stank to high heaven but with a few carrots and wild herbs in there too, it was a nutritious supper and more than enough to be flasked up for a luke-warm breakfast, when they set out in the morning.

They sat curled up together on the bed to share their stew from the pot it had been cooked in. Punctuating the meal with random kisses and wandering hands, Daryl figured that their rough hump against that tree wasn’t going to be the last call on his dick tonight. He didn’t mind one bit. He found himself once again thanking his lucky stars. She made up for a whole heap of the shit he’d had to endure to make it here, to this magical, perfect little love-nest in the middle of a forest teeming with game just waiting to be caught, with the woman of his fucking dreams, chomping at the bit to tear his clothes off and get down to business. He briefly worried that he must have died and gone to his own personal version of heaven. But then he figured, if that were the case, who fuckin’ cared.

\--------------

The morning brought a serious turn for both of them. Gone were the playful touches and lingering kisses of the night before, they woke, got dressed and ready and snuck out through the woods in almost perfect silence. All business and totally on their game. Taking up position in what they had decided would be the first ‘kill zone’, Daryl gave Kit a boost up into the tree they’d picked out and made his own way, a little distance closer to the game path, at an angle. The first kill was an adolescent male. Maybe a buck-ten at most. Good lean eating though and enough protein to augment the Alexandrians’ diet for a few days.

Two would be better. Two would be a solid week of slight augmentation or one blow out barbeque session, like the goat had been, to last the entire community for one or two days’ worth of meat. They didn’t have time to waste and there were no big predators around, so they roughly rolled the animal in tarp, tucking around to prevent smaller scavengers from getting at it for the brief time they’d be gone and then set off for the second kill zone.

Another wait, a longer wait. The sun was inching higher in the sky with every minute that passed and they were both very aware that they had a ‘bird in the hand’ that mustn’t spoil while they risked extra time on another kill. It was a longer wait but it wasn’t a LONG wait really. Just as they were beginning to get nervous about the time, a light step and a blur of movement caught Kit’s eye and she let her arrow fly. Daryl had taken down the first one, she hadn’t even bothered to release, unwilling to waste an unnecessary arrow but this one had been hers. Swinging down from her perch, it felt good to be on the front line of her own food provision again. To provide for herself. And also to provide for others. For the family that were his and would become hers.

Around the same age and size as the first one, barely a pound between them. They strung number two to the carrying pole and hot footed it down through the trees towards the landy. Now they knew that the only humans for miles around were safely oblivious on the other side of this promontory and were unlikely to hear anything on this approach, they left the deer hooked over a branch and covered in a second stretch of tarp, on the edge of the tree line and returned to the first kill, still laying, untouched, on the game trail where they’d left him.

Half an hour later, they had him safely hooked up near his compatriot and Daryl ran back through the woods to fetch their pack of gear. They’d already decided to leave the gas bottle and cooking pot they’d come with, as they hoped to use the little shelter again and the equipment could be easily enough replaced if necessary. They’d already eaten most of the food they’d brought with them and drunk (or cooked with) most of the water, so that last pack was light and only required one courier.

The idea had been for Kit to wait by the tree line but with this heat, as the sun rose higher in the sky, she figured every second counted. She waited until he was out of sight, knowing he daren’t leave her alone if he’d known what she planned to do. She figured that her going for the landy on her own was no worse than him running back into the woods on his own though. She set off at a run but she was careful, hugging cover where she could and approaching the landy itself very warily, after retrieving the jerry can and little stash of provisions they’d hidden, just in case.

It sat just where they’d left it the day before; the branches they’d used for cover, just as they’d left them; the earth around, undisturbed. She waited and scoped the surrounds for movement and seeing nothing, she cautiously approached. Nothing.

The landy started first time, once the plugs had been replaced and she set off back towards the treeline, where a very grumpy looking Daryl was just emerging with a pack bouncing on his back. He threw the pack in the cab window, along with yet another two rabbits, not needing to voice his displeasure at her taking such a risk on her own. His face said it all and he’d have words later but for now they needed to hurry, in case they’d been unlucky and someone had heard the engine from the little homestead above.

They placed the deer carefully in the back and closed up the tail gate. Kit felt Daryl following her as she went back to the treeline to fetch her bow, with the sinking feeling that he was about to launch into a nagging session and sour their, so far, perfect trip. Her period was unfortunately already well under way and she’d already had to make use of her tampon supply before setting off this morning, so angry make-up sex was out of the question. She briefly wondered if he could be placated with a grope and a blow job, as she bent to pick up the bow. And then things went very badly wrong, very very quickly.


	64. Chapter 64

As Kit approached the rough woodpile where her bow rested, she was shocked to feel Daryl’s hand on her arm. He span her quickly, pulling her away from the bow and putting himself between her and the woodpile. She had no idea what was going on until she saw the flash of movement and the snake striking Daryl somewhere on his leg, just below the hip. Instinctively he grabbed the snake, just behind the head, turned to stamp down on the tail and pulled his knife from his belt to behead it swiftly.

Once the immediate danger had passed, he allowed himself a wincing groan of pain and Kit's dumb paralysis subsided as she unfroze from the stock still terror that had overtaken her. She wasn’t used to snakes, didn’t have them at the forefront of her mind. Didn’t expect to see them. When she’d worked abroad in places that had snakes, she’d always been with local experts, people who knew what was around and were there to remind you of the local rules. She had seen snakes in the wild before but she'd always been able to back away and give it its space. She'd never faced any real danger from one.

She knew a little about what she might come across in this country. Looking at the snake, it was probably a Timber Rattler, although there had been no warning rattle. It looked to be an elderly snake and the damned rattle had probably literally just fallen off. She hadn’t seen it. It had been well camouflaged near the woodpile and without the rattle, she’d had no idea it was even there. It had nowhere to go and must have felt cornered. She wouldn’t have seen the strike coming but Daryl had and now he was bitten and that terrified Kit to her core.

The initial rush of adrenalin subsided quickly, thank goodness because his heart rate needed to be low until they got to help. He was obviously in a lot of pain and she rushed to support him, as he turned back towards her, with a wince, as he limped on that joint.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She exclaimed on the verge of tears. “I didn’t even see it, I’m so sorry.”

“S’OK, just a reflex bite.” Daryl replied. “Hurts like fuck but prob’ly a low dose or not venomous at all.”

“We still need to get you home as soon as possible.” She replied, beginning to shake with adrenalin of her own, as panic kicked in. Daryl nodded his agreement. He might be hard as coffin nails but he wasn’t stupid. A snake bite was a snake bite and you don’t take it for granted that you can bluster your way through it. He'd never been bitten himself but he'd known it to happen to others and it wasn't something to be laughed off, or laughed at.

They made their way slowly and shakily to the passenger side of the landy and Kit left Daryl propped against the engine block as she made room in the cab for him. Throwing the kit bag in the back, with the deer. As she was absorbed with trying to do this as quickly as possible, Daryl had been hit with another bout of searing pain and spasms in his leg. It buckled under him, causing him to list and fall awkwardly. On his way down he cracked his head on the hard, unforgiving metal of the wheel arch and as Kit emerged from the cab, panic spiked in her again as she saw the man she loved, the first person or thing she’d ever really loved on the face of the earth, laying insensible on the grass.

She wasn’t a screamer but she wasn’t a crier either and that didn’t stop the tears bursting forth. She couldn’t lose him, she just couldn’t. She’d only had him back for two weeks but she could never live without him again now. The thought of life without love, without him alive in the world, was more than she could ever accept now. She had to fight, while he couldn’t, she had to get him home.

If she’d thought there was even the slightest chance that they would or could help, at this point she’d have run straight for the little settlement up the hill. They could be cannibals or worse but it would have been worth the risk. Even in her panic stricken state though, she knew that Alexandria was their best shot.

Aaron and Eric had returned from their run yesterday with the remainder of what they hadn’t been able to carry the day before. They’d stumbled across a pharmaceutical store room in an office block in a nearby town. No one had thought to even look in that block before but taking a leaf out of Kit’s book, they’d consulted some phone directories and found that a big pharma rep company was based out of the building. Rosita and Tara had been beside themselves to see so many useful samples, as well as full sized bottles, boxes and phials of the most common drugs.

Alexandria had the biggest drugs cabinet for miles around right now and Kit just had to hope that one of those samples was an anti-venom, or that they at least had enough steroids, anti-biotics and anti-inflammatories to treat Daryl’s bite. She knew they had the ware withal to treat the head wound at least and right now, that was the highest priority because it was bleeding profusely.

It took every ounce of strength she had to hoist him up into the cab and then drag him from the other side into a vaguely upright, seated position, as he lapsed in and out of bleary consciousness. Grabbing the first aid kit she raced back around the vehicle, to bind his head, as best she could for now, strap him into his seat and slam the door closed.

She paused momentarily to swear at the body of the snake laying where Daryl had fallen. Picking it up, she threw it unceremoniously in the back. To join the deer and the rabbits. She grabbed her bow, approaching with only slightly more care than she had before – this time she was in a REAL hurry – and slamming her own door shut she screeched off at a roaring pace. Grabbing the radio to alert Alexandria they were coming and that Tara, Rosita and Maria had better be ready for them when they arrived.

She took the most direct route, across bare ground and open fields, to the nearest big road and hit the gas hard as she took the quickest route home. She didn’t care if anyone saw them, didn’t care if she was followed, a whole herd of walkers could amble out of nowhere into the middle of the road and she wouldn’t have let up the pace for an instant. The landy would get them home, come hell or literally high water and she wasn’t stopping for anything.

The journey there had taken about two and a half hours, at a nice comfortable, careful pace, via a sensible, discreet route. There was nothing sensible or discreet about their journey home, it wasn’t comfortable and it wasn’t careful but Kit got them back in just over an hour and it was a good job Michonne was on the gate when they arrived because Kit wasn’t quite sure herself if she’d have stopped if the gates hadn’t been rolled back for her the second she was spotted in the distance.

The family members that had been home, or nearby, when the call came in, were all there and swung into action the second the car stopped outside the ‘hospital house’. Everyone grabbed an arm or a leg, or cradled his still tightly bandaged head and rushed him into the room they’d set aside to work on him.

There was no anti-venom but the women had had an hour to prepare their plan of action and find the cocktail of drugs that they thought would best treat Daryl’s injuries. Their first priority, after checking the bite site, was actually his head wound. He still wasn’t really conscious, having lapsed in and out all the way home. They set to work and there really wasn’t anything Kit could do that wouldn’t mean being in the way. She usually prided herself on being useful in an emergency but here she was the insensible, useless, hot mess in the corner, barely able to string a sentence together and taking energy away from Daryl, who needed it most.

The moment she realised that the best thing she could do for him was get out of the way and let them treat him, was the moment she slipped quietly outside. Shell-shocked, she stumbled out of the house to the group of similarly useless and similarly worried community members gathered on the porch. Rick was pacing like a caged tiger, Ellen had taken Michonne’s guard shift so she could be there, Aaron and Eric had come back early from yet another run. Everyone was milling about looking worried. They had nothing else to do either.

“How’s it going in there?” Michonne asked warily.

“Uhh, ….They almost stopped the bleeding I think. Rosita’s gonna try stitching it, when they calm him down enough.” She managed weakly. “He keeps coming around a little and trying to get out of bed. Kieran and Maria are managing to hold him down.” She finished, as Rick looked set to march in there and hold him down with a sharp word and a stern look.

Glancing at Mike, who was resting against the landy, Kit snapped into useful mode. There was no useful contribution she could make towards Daryl’s recovery right now but she could make sure he had the best nutrition to recuperate on, once he was on the mend. They’d worked for those kills and Daryl was bleeding for them, she’d be damned if they were going to go to waste, mouldering away in the back of the landy.

“Let’s sort these deer out.” She suggested to the assembled group. “We’ve got nothing better to do and there’s two deer and a pair of rabbits to dress.” She exhaled in a sigh. “And one fucking snake.” She spat, making her way towards the tailgate.


	65. Chapter 65

Aaron and Eric took the rabbits and Rick, Michonne and Kit took on the deer, as Mike prepared a cold store, with the help of one of David’s housemates Freddie. It was a rush job to finish the little storehouse now, as they’d been working on it in expectations of the hunters bringing something back but they hadn’t expected it to be this early and they hadn’t expected it to be this much.

For the others it was hard work that required concentration and took their minds off what was happening across the street. They used one of the half-finished houses for hanging the animals, dressing and butchering. It had four walls and a roof but the ground floor was bare concrete and the upper floor was just bare joists. Ideal for hanging meat, while it was being processed. They’d hooked it into the water supply the day before, in anticipation of Kit and Daryl’s return, so there was plenty of running water in the hosepipe.

Mike and Freddie were busy hooking up the house’s small garage, equipped with a scavenged solar panel on the roof. They’d also scavenged four large refrigerators and planned to use them to age the deer quarters for the next week. There was no urgent hurry for meat yet in the community and it would be a nice luxury to not have to just eat what they caught straight away. It would be great to do things properly for a change.

For Kit, dressing the animals, cleaning out and cutting up the carcasses, was a form of meditation. She could have dressed a deer with her eyes closed. It didn’t require any thought or concentration. It was a robotic action that allowed her mind to wander free. Even preserving the edible organs and going over to check the rabbits’ livers to make sure the animals were safe to eat. It was all standard ‘no brain’ work to her.

She wasn’t panicking anymore. The doc at Hilltop wasn’t around to liaise with, via the radio and The Kingdom’s HAM setup was still dropping in and out randomly. No one had been in touch since first thing this morning and when Tara had first tried to reach them an hour ago, there’d been nothing but static. They were probably just off-line to repair but it just served to highlight that, for now at least, they were on their own. But she’d seen the looks of determination on Tara and Rosita’s faces. Even Maria, who had only lived here a couple of months and barely knew Daryl, was clearly on a mission to see him right. He was in good hands. They’d do their best and she couldn’t ask for more, although in her head and her heart she asked for much, much, more.

Rick and Michonne tried to take her mind off it, as they noticed that the job in hand wasn’t performing that function for her the way it was for them. They asked her about the forest, where they’d camped, what the chances were of long-term use as a hunting ground for them. Trying to engage her, trying to drag her interest in a more benign direction, just for a few minutes.

She’d filled them in absentmindedly. She rattled off the details, the good prospects, the shelters, the settlement and the people who lived there. She hadn’t even realised what she was saying. The report she was giving to the leader of this community. What it might all mean to him, to them. She’d just answered the questions, mind only half engaged, heart entirely elsewhere.

She hadn’t noticed the exchanged glances, the silent agreements and decisions being made right under her nose. By the time the meat was all processed into manageable cuts in the fridges, or in the case of the rabbits, quartered up in brining containers. And once every useful scrap had been harvested and preserved as best they could, Rick and Michonne had more to worry about than Daryl’s health. They left the decisions about how to use the storage, to its best capacity, to Mike and Freddie and let Kit wander back to the little ‘hospital house’ on her own, as they grabbed Aaron and Eric and took them aside for further discussions.

Kit saw Kieran leave the house as she approached. He wasn’t looking her way and trotted quickly in the direction of Rick’s house. She could have called out and saved him the wasted journey but she had other things on her mind right now. She couldn’t think straight now she didn’t have an occupation to distract her, even a little bit.

The house was so quiet now, compared to how it had been an hour ago; when Daryl had been thrashing on the bed, barely controlled and they’d all been racing around like headless chickens and barking instructions at each other. Tara was washing up instruments as Rosita sat on the kitchen island, legs crossed, scowling at a reference book like it had done something unforgivable to her and generations of her family before her. Maria was nowhere to be seen but as Kit opened her mouth to ask for an update, she bustled in from the room where they’d taken Daryl.

“Oh, Kit.” She exclaimed, startled at the sight of her. Maria briefly glanced at the blood soaked t-shirt Kit wore and obviously decided not to comment. While Kit stared back at hers in abject horror at what THAT blood might mean.

“Can I see him?” She asked, suddenly a little terrified. “Is he up to visitors?”

“Ummm.” Maria replied, darting a look at the other women. A look screaming ‘help!’. A look that made Kit’s blood freeze in her veins. A look that terrified her even more than the blood had. Terrified her beyond words.

Tara and Rosita sprang towards her, hands raised and reassurances on their tongues. She must have turned as white as a sheet, as both women were obviously concerned for her in that moment and desperate to put her mind at rest.

“It’s OK.” Tara promised.

“He’s OK.” Rosita clarified.

“Well, Kind of.” Tara couldn’t help herself but instantly regretted the addition. Kit turned fiery instantly and no one was concerned for HER anymore, they were more concerned for themselves.

“What do you mean…’kind of’?” She almost hissed, with quiet steel in her voice.

They tumbled over each other’s words in an attempt to get the full story out before Kit killed one or all of them. Drawing attention from one, to the other, to the other. Splitting her focus and avoiding anyone being the sole object of her ire.

They’d done their best, Kit kept repeating to herself, like a mantra in her head, as the story unfolded. They all had the barest of medical training, she reminded herself. Maria was by far the most medically trained of the three and she’d been a veterinary nurse and had retired five years before the outbreak. It wasn’t their fault, they’d done their best.

Daryl was alive. That was the good news. The most important and the best news. They’d managed to stop the bleeding but they did need to get some blood into him because he was currently very weak, having lost at least a pint here, as well as whatever he’d lost in the hour before he arrived. Probably another pint or two, Kit guessed. They didn’t know his blood type though and had no way of finding it out.

That wasn’t the biggest problem though. Every time they’d tried to do something, he’d fought back. Whenever he was conscious he’d tried to get off the bed. He’d been insensible. Confused by the blow to the head and delirious with pain from the bite. They’d started out with one shot of sedative and gotten somewhere with the head wound but he’d come around again while they tried to examine his bite and they’d had to knock him out with a second dose. He’d come around again as  Rosita was trying to stitch his head wound and fearing that the sedative dose just wasn’t enough and that the drug had lost its potency over the years, they’d made the collective decision to double it that last time.

“But it wasn’t the dose.” Rosita admitted guiltily.

“The dose was correct and would have knocked him out long enough for everything.” Maria added.

“We just hadn’t given it time to take effect.” Tara concluded.

Every time Daryl had lapsed into unconsciousness they’d thought it was the sedative doing its thing. But it was just Daryl, lapsing in and out, as he had all the way home. A more careful examination of the sedative’s instructions, once everything died down, had revealed that it took longer to take effect than they’d ever allowed. They’d given him a collective dose three times more potent than they should have and he was now out cold. For how long they didn’t know and were desperately trying to figure out. They were also trying to decide what effect (if any) the excess of sedative would have on the cocktail of drugs they’d already administered to help deal with the snake bite.

Kit just stood there, feeling like an unexploded bomb, as the women quietened around her having confessed all of their sins and waited for her to go off. They did their best. She repeated to herself in her head.

“He’s O-positive.” She said matter of factly, in a quiet, measured tone. “I shared a tent with the camp leader when I first met him. She had all of our blood types, just in case. I saw the list.” She added by way of explanation. “Both Dixon brothers: O-positive.”

That was one half of a puzzle solved, she saw in Rosita’s eyes but it didn’t help them figure out who amongst them would be able to donate. “That’s a common one, should be someone here who knows their type and is O-positive.” She murmered, almost to herself.

“O-positive is THE most common blood type but it doesn’t matter. I’m O-Neg…. a universal donor… you can use mine.” She looked from one to the other, reading their expressions and their current levels of panic.

She repeated her mantra, quietly in the privacy of her own head, as she summoned up all the calmness, practicality and authority she could muster. “While you figure out how to do a blood transfusion AND what affect the sedative will have on him, I’m going in there to sit with him.” She dared them to contradict her. “OK?”

No one argued. They nodded decisively and watched her disappear into the little room before looking at each other with renewed panic and a new set of priorities and problems to figure out.

\---------------

She stilled against the door as she closed it, taking in the scene. She half expected him to sit up as she entered, give her a cocky smile and a ‘come hither’ motion of the head for her to join him on the bed. He did none of those things. She could just barely make out the motion of his slow steady breathing but that was it. That was all he was doing. Just laying there, looking like death but breathing. She was grateful enough for that… considering.

Suddenly she felt a bump at the door behind her and a scratching noise on the other side. She smiled slightly as she turned to open the door. Tara was quietly trying to pull the dog away and apologised as soon as Kit appeared.

“She must’ve got out.” Tara explained. Apparently the dog had made her way here on her own.

“She’ll have heard the landy when we came in, she’ll have been wondering why we hadn’t come home yet.” She smiled down at her four legged friend, writhing against Tara’s restraining arms. “She can come in can’t she?”

Tara had let go immediately, saying “Sure, if that’s OK.” Kit nodded and turned back into the room and the dog, as Tara went back to her books.

Kit and the dog had never been demonstrative, she didn’t jump up or try to lick Kit’s face. She rubbed against her legs though, letting her know that she’d been missed. Kit returned the gesture by scratting her ears. Greeting completed, the dog padded over to the bed. Paws on the bed, she pulled herself up to see Daryl laying still on top of it. She nuzzled his arm and whined plaintively, looking over at Kit as she moved over towards the bed herself.

She pulled a chair over to the bed for herself and a big table next to the other side, so the dog could lay next to Daryl too. Finally taking her own seat, she reached for his hand and cradled it in her own. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, as she recalled the gentleness of these hands. The night before, her breasts had been tender, with the imminence of her period. Somehow, the ministrations of these hands had been more of a comfort than an agony. His gentle, caressing, sensual touch, going some way towards easing the ache and adding to, rather than detracting from, the pleasures of their love making.

She caught the dog’s eye, across Daryl’s chest. “He’ll be OK.” She assured her, as well as herself. “He’s strong and tough as old boots, you’ll see.” She nodded at the dog, as she reached up to pull an errant strand of hair from under his bandage, flattening it down on his forehead as she caressed the face she couldn’t now live without. “He’ll be fine…. I promise.”


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've got a bit out of whack again. I've had a very busy couple of weeks and it looks set to continue so I can't promise another chapter this weekend. Hopefully I'll be back at my proper pace by this time next week though.

By the time Rick had had a chance to get back to the house to check on Daryl’s condition himself and look for Kit, it was too late. He’d wanted to go straight away. That afternoon. Strike while the iron was hot. Kit had admitted that she’d been less than careful as she left that place. More than likely these people would be expecting trouble now. Expecting SOMETHING anyway. They’d be scared. They’d be fortifying. Rick didn’t want to chance leaving them to stew too long.

While he’d been conferring though, Kieran had finally gotten through to Dr. Carson. They’d finally gotten some direction on how to jerry rig a blood transfusion. Ahough they were still no better off with the problem of having given Daryl a sedative overdose, the doctor HAD told them how to combat any liver damage that might have been caused by the overdose, once Daryl was on the mend. And he HAD been able to assure them that it didn’t sound like he’d been pushed into a coma. He’d just sleep longer than they’d intended. A hell of a LOT longer. He had suggested that the time might be reduced a little by the transfusion but he wasn’t promising.

Rick was glad they’d found a solution for Daryl but he was a little pissed that they’d just hooked Kit up straight away rather than even trying to find another donor. He needed her to find the exact spot of this settlement and he’d hoped to get going right away. Get this done today.

As soon as he walked into the room he realised that that had been a totally unrealistic expectation anyway. There was absolutely no chance whatsoever that he’d have gotten her away from Daryl’s bedside long enough to convince her to go along with the plan. He’d have had to sedate and kidnap her and THAT would have been a serious fucking challenge, what with her guard dog being right there next to her.

It was too late now to find another donor. They’d already started to pump blood from her veins into his, there was no stopping it now. Apparently, the whole process had been quite a challenge and Rosita’s tight lipped, silent fury, when he suggested switching to another donor, had indicated that he’d better shut up about that idea for now. It would still be worth finding another O-Neg or O-Pos donor. He’d never drag Kit away while there was any chance that Daryl might need more blood, unless there was another option on the table. He set Kieran and Tara to that task and took over the pumping duties himself.

Looking down at his fiercest friend and the only brother he ever had or would need, since the whole world had gone to the shitter, he was grudgingly glad of the delay. It would have been best to strike while the iron was hot but he wouldn’t have been on his A-game either, with Daryl back here, still in precarious health. Another hour and it would be too late to set out today but another hour, with a pint or two of blood in him and Daryl might be looking more like himself. Stronger, healthier, more like the kick ass son of a bitch that was going to chew through a head wound and a snake bite like it was a grazed knee.

Rick smiled at the thought and was startled as he looked up to see Kit watching him. Catching himself for a second he smiled even wider. “He’s gonna kick the shit out of this, you’ll see.”

“I know.” She replied quietly and with just as much honest conviction.

\--------------

Kieran and Tara returned an hour later with the news that they’d done a quick poll of everyone they could find in town and now had a full list of everyone who knew their blood type. The list was pathetic and they’d scrounged up just one of each type that they needed. That didn’t bode well for the future and Rick hoped that one of the doctors in the other settlements had thought ahead and would have a way of identifying others in the communities.

If they could only scrounge up two universal donors at short notice then that might be a hell of a medical emergency waiting to happen down the line. He found himself lingering on the imminence of Maggie’s labour and it scared him half to death to think that what had happened to Laurie could just as easily happen to her, if the doc didn’t have someone with HER blood type nearby when the time came.

He shook himself out of that road to panic and returned to the problems at hand. He dismissed the two volunteers for now but made them promise to eat well, drink nothing but water and stay ready, in case they were needed later. Daryl’s colour was improving already and he didn’t want to drain anyone else if it wasn’t necessary.

Kit was pale at the best of times but she was milky now, no strawberries in the cream anymore. They needed to stop soon, or she’d be no use to him tomorrow. It would have to be tomorrow, he’d resigned himself to that now but he was still struggling with how he’d be able to convince her to lead them, with Daryl still out cold. He let her carry on for the “Ten more minutes.” She fought for. Daryl must have two pints of her blood in him now, maybe more. He’d be fine. Now it was HER that looked to be on death’s door.

She wouldn’t leave, even to eat or drink, a couple of trips to the bathroom were all anyone saw her leave his side for all afternoon and well into the evening. Tara had brought her a mug of hot soup from the kitchen here in the house, while she gave blood. They’d cajoled her into taking the soup by telling her she needed to be strong to give him more blood. Now it was over they’d have no leverage to make her take care of herself.

Michonne solved the problem a couple of hours later. She cooked up a storm of vegetables and a small ration of the rabbit she and Daryl had brought home today. She’d ‘jerked’ the shit out of it, with plenty of spices and pepper to disguise the ‘gamey’ flavour of the meat. Daryl had mentioned her love of spices, her despair at the prospect of never having a decent curry again. Maybe this wasn’t the kind of ‘curry’ she was used to but fucking spicy it WAS.

“Figured we could all do with something spicy.” Michonne crooned, dishing up a portion for everyone still keeping vigil at Daryl’s bedside. Although everyone ELSE got more plain rice to mix in and everyone ELSE was fine with that. “Spice is good for the blood.. huh?” She caught Kit’s eye briefly and that had made her think. Michonne nodded over towards Daryl. “Smell of it might even wake sleeping beauty up huh?”

Kit knew she was being managed, they could all see that but everyone was making such an effort. She was surprised and a little humbled by it. They could all see that too. They were most glad to see, when she finally gave in and ate some dinner. None of them were as worried for Daryl, later that afternoon, as they were for Kit. She’d given two or three pints of blood today, on not very much in the way of energy reserves. She was going to need to be on good form in the morning. Daryl would be fine but tomorrow would be a further drain on Kit and they all knew she was going to be spending the night, right where she was now. Sat in that chair, getting hardly a wink of sleep.  

People dropped in and out all throughout the evening and she and the dog were rarely left alone until midnight. Rick was the last to leave, with reassurances that “this guy” would be up and about and giving the girls shit, for messing up his dose before the day was out tomorrow but that it was probably good for him to be sleeping it off for now. “You know he wouldn’t be doing his recovery any favours, if he was awake right now.” He’d said.

He was right, of course. Dr. Carson’s assurances had set her mind a little at rest and the improvement in his vitals and his colour had given her further encouragement. There was still no way that Rick or anyone else was going to get her to sleep anywhere but right here tonight. He’d already broached the subject of his plans for the morning. Already indicated that he needed her to go with them, whether Daryl was awake yet or not.

She’d flatly refused to start with but he’d argued on and on. He’d used Daryl against her, what would he want, what would he expect of her. He’d used her burgeoning sense of community and family. How could she let them go in blind? Wouldn’t it make Daryl proud if he woke to find that she’d been instrumental in setting up a new and productive relationship with a new community. That she’d helped secure their community and ensured that hunting trips, like the one they’d just returned from, would be a regular thing from now on.

She had to admit. That was tempting. She would love to give Daryl that. To have him wake up to a world where two-day love-nest hunts were a regular occurrence. She’d seen the joy and freedom that being out there in the woods, on his ‘home turf’, brought him. To be the cause of that. To help that happen.

She knew that Rick was painting the ‘best case scenario’ picture. She knew that it might just as easily end up being a pitched battle for control of those hunting grounds. But it was something. It might be worth it and if Daryl was looking strong enough, or ideally awake, by tomorrow morning, she might consider it.

\-------------

 

He wasn’t awake. Not yet. Still, not yet. He did look strong though. As she’d awoken that morning from her short, uncomfortable sleep by his bedside, her heart had leapt to see the change in him. She’d reached out, thought for a second that he was just sleeping normally. She’d tried to wake him, gently at first but more insistently, as her efforts proved fruitless. He did look strong though. She didn’t feel the fear she had the night before, pricking insistently at her heart. He WOULD wake up. Sometime today, he would be awake, she had no doubts about that now.

She thought about Rick’s words the night before. She thought about how determined he’d looked. He’d be going to the forest today, if she was with him or not. He’d take a strong contingent with him. He’d need to make a strong impression. She didn’t dare think what might happen if they had to bumble around looking for exactly the right area. What would happen to Daryl’s brother and the rest of his favoured family, if she didn’t escort them to the door.

She had to go but she couldn’t leave him here all alone. Couldn’t leave him to wake up here without her, waiting by his bedside. She looked over towards the dog. He’d be mad at her, if she didn’t take the dog for protection, he’d be mad. But she didn’t need the dog for protection. She had herself and Daryl’s own family for that. She needed to know that there was part of her left behind, to take care of him and be there in her stead, when he finally awoke. An emissary.

“You’ll look after him for me won’t you girl?” she asked. “Just ‘til I get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be some flashbacks coming up and opportunities to see some reappearances of characters from both Kit and Daryl's past. You've got no choice about Merle but I can use either of Kit's (speaking part) old friends for what I'm planning so does anyone have any strong preferences for seeing either Lisa (old travelling buddy, turned Texas housewife), or Donna (camp 'mother hen')?


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya - hoping to get back on track and post two this week. Here's the first one. Hope you enjoy.

Daryl wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. Pain felt real but whenever he felt the pain, the visions that came with it seemed jumbled and topsy turvey. Kit looking like she was about to have a heart attack with fear. That didn’t seem right. The sounds of a woman crying and hollering at someone called Dave. Did he know a Dave? The world bouncing around him, like he was in the middle of an earthquake or a fucking tornado or some shit.

At one point he could swear his eyes were open but he couldn’t see. He was still bouncing around and for a panic stricken moment he thought he was back in that fucking truck, being taken to a clearing in the woods. Being taken to see two of his family butchered before his eyes. Or even worse; back in the same truck – alone – having seen that sight and knowing in his heart that he’d been the cause of the second death that night. Going god knew where but for some unknown and inexplicable reason, STILL breathing.

Next time the pain arrived, it came with visions of four walls he didn’t recognise and hands holding him down. He couldn’t understand why and especially why they were able to. He felt weak as a fucking kitten and just as helpless. It took him back to the panic of the fighting pit in Woodbury and the killing room in Terminus. He thought he recognised the voices but he couldn’t place them. He heard the woman crying again and it went through him like nails on a chalkboard but he couldn’t help her, seemingly he couldn’t even help himself. Rage enveloped him and the pain subsided again.

When the pain wasn’t there. That felt more real. Seemed to make more sense. He felt stronger and recognised the people and places around him. Even when the people were assholes and the places were shitholes and he couldn’t quite remember how he’d got there or why it mattered.

He was sitting against the garage door of the little house he and Merle were currently renting. Drinking a beer and watching the sun set as Merle railed and screamed at him from the confines of the garage Daryl had locked him in.

He’d figured that was the safest place. Merle was just about stupid enough to wreck the house, even worse than they had between them already, if he was let loose in there right now. At the moment the place looked like it was inhabited by pretty feral beasts, that were far from house proud and Daryl had to admit that it pretty much was. What cleaning got done, got done very occasionally and mostly by Daryl, although Merle had a real hard on for making his bed, like he’d only just got out of boot camp yesterday. Still, they had a remote chance of getting their security deposit back, when they moved on, as it stood. No chance of that if Merle really went to town on the place.

There wasn’t much Merle could really damage in the garage, except the truck and himself, so Daryl had loosened the ropes just enough so he’d be able to free himself eventually and left him to it. The truck was technically his, so it was his look out if he wrecked that. Daryl knew that he wouldn’t hurt himself. Not in any permanent physical way anyway. He was destructive and his behaviour was self-destructive. Even Daryl had to recognise that these days. But he wasn’t a self-harmer, not in any direct sense. He’d never learned to internalise his pain and anger the way Daryl had…and did…sometimes. If he was gonna hurt anyone, it wasn’t gonna be Merle.

Daryl tried to ignore his brother, battering the door at his back and concentrate on the sunset. Oranges and reds and hazy wisps of dark blue, burning together on the horizon. He felt an ache in his heart and knew he missed something, he didn’t know what but he missed it something fierce. He was almost sure he’d had something real, something special in his grasp and let it slip through his fingers and then the pain came.

The next time things made sense again he was still at dad’s house. It had never been ‘home’, just the place he slept most of the time and the place his father ruled, quite literally, with a rod of iron. He could hear dad in his room, snoring like a freight train. That was good. “It’s when the fucker stops snorin’ you gotta worry.” He reminded himself quietly, as he finished making his sandwich.

It was a school day but he needed to get away for a while. Dad wouldn’t know any different and even if he noticed, he’d be mad only until he’d drunk himself into oblivion again. Daryl could time his reappearance to coincide with another bout of unconsciousness. He’d got pretty good at that these last few months.

A case of necessity being the mother of invention. He couldn’t have afforded any more beatings like the last one. The jagged flesh wound of that last attack, still catching on his clothes and still painful to the touch. There had definitely been at least one fractured rib in there and another beating like that would have finished him off. He’d had to get smart or he’d have gotten dead.

The tactic seemed to work for now but he needed something more long term to come along soon. Whenever he was alone with his father Daryl felt the weight of those months in the air. Felt like his dad was just itching for an excuse, or enough sobriety to catch Daryl off guard before he had a chance to get away. That was also good. The old man was getting slower and slower, both mentally and physically. He’d literally drunk all his brain cells away, it seemed like and that helped Daryl stay one step ahead.

There was hardly anything left of the dad he’d had as a small boy. The dad his mom would have recognised. He’d never been a great dad or husband and you’d always had to watch yourself around him or pay the price. But he had had his good days. He’d taught his boys how to hunt, fish, change a tyre, do an oil change and put up a shed. He’d been happiest then. When he was doing something useful. Something that required skill. The rot had set in as he’d lost his job at the sawmill, when it closed. Casual labouring was all he could get around here after that and it wasn’t enough. It had been a slow decline into pettiness and occasionally vicious, outbursts after that. After his mom’s death though, his decline had gone into freefall. Merle took it for a while but he’d fucked off into the Army well over a year ago now and Daryl was on his own.

Often he could tell that dad didn’t even know why he was angry these days and barely had an inkling what his son got up to or where he was half the time. When it played in his favour, his dad’s forgetfulness was a godsend. Meaning he often just didn’t realise that Daryl had gone AWOL for three days straight. Sometimes though, just sometimes, it made him dangerously unpredictable. Lashing out for literally no reason at all and with no prior warning. That’s what had happened last time. Daryl’s timing had been off but those were the times when he really had to be on his game, had to be quick. Get the fuck out, with just the clothes on his back and survive long enough for his dad to drink himself into another stupor and forget all about it.

He’d still had friends up to a year ago. Places he could go. Places he could crash. He’d used them all too much though and parents had started taking notice, asking questions. He couldn’t afford that shit. Noone was gonna come in on a white horse and save his ass. The authorities had had their chance after his mom… after the fire. No, he wasn’t getting ‘saved’ any time soon and dad wasn’t about to change. Questions could only lead to more pain, more beatings. So he’d stopped going to friends and then he’d gradually stopped interacting with them at all.

He’d see some of them sometimes. At school, when he bothered to go, or around town. He never shut them out completely. He’d pass the time of day with them. Make what little small talk he could be bothered with. They seemed to understand. There was an unspoken agreement not to push any further, not to ask awkward questions, not to get involved. He hated that look though, that look of undefined pity, that he caught in the eyes of those old friends sometimes. He hated it even more that there were obviously rumours circulating, people talking behind their backs. He hated seeing that look passing between strangers in stores, teachers at school, old ladies in the street, as he passed them by with a limp or a split lip.

He packed quietly. Carefully retrieved the crossbow from under the bed. It was Merle’s but he’d left it behind so Daryl took it as a gift. Fair game, at least. Merle had never been exactly great with it anyway and now Daryl was big enough to manage the weapon properly, he found himself taking to it like a duck to water. Certainly a lot quieter than his dad’s rifle and a lot less likely to get his ass noticed out in the woods or tanned by his dad, if the old bastard noticed it missing.

As Daryl headed towards the back door his heart leapt to his throat, as the snoring suddenly stopped. He quickened his pace in a panic. Opening the door to the streaming sunshine, a wave of pain and unfathomable confusion washed over him again.

\-------------

 

The next time the pain stopped was the last. He was in the back yard, rocking the baby in his arms and showing her all his favourite spots. There was a nook under the steps where he’d hidden all his favourite toy soldiers. The limb of the dwarf tree, by the back fence, where he kept his catapult. He showed her the marks on the tree from his most recent target practice. They could hardly hear the argument from this side of the yard. His mom had thrust the baby into his arms and told him to quieten her down, as she’d ushered him out the door. He didn’t know what the point of the argument was. It didn’t sound like there was much to be done. No job meant no job, he guessed.

She hadn’t taken much quietening. She was a ‘good baby’, according to his mama. Everyone seemed to think he’d have a problem with his new baby sister but Daryl didn’t know why they thought that. She wasn’t no trouble, well – not much anyway and she always had a toothless smile for him. Even Merle seemed to like her, although he was always more than happy to pass her off to Daryl to look after.

She began to fuss a little in his arms and he remembered the bottle in his other hand, moving it to her lips he shifted her a little in his arms and fed her. Her pudgy little hands gripped the bottle and wrapped around his own fingers. She looked up at him with her big baby blue eyes and he felt a little sad as he looked back but didn’t know why. Daryl figured he liked her just fine.

\------------

“Didn’t know you had a sister?” Hershal commented, propping himself against the prison wall, as Daryl tried to puzzle out the engine’s mysterious power loss issue.

“No reason you should.” He replied, scratching his head and trying to remember why he’d told the old man about her now. Had he told him? He couldn’t remember.

“Where is she now?” The old man asked.

“Ain’t nowhere.” He replied absently. “Died in her crib that night. Nuthin’ wrong with ‘er, no reason why… just stopped breathin’ I guess.”

“God, that’s terrible.” Glenn pitched in from his spot behind the wheel.

“Where the hell did you come from?” He asked, both mad that he’d told either of them about his sister in the first place and inexplicably and simultaneously sad and happy beyond words, to see both of them. He couldn’t think why…. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them every damned day for the last eight months on the road.

“It’s ‘cos they’re dead, dummy.” Came a very familiar, gruff voice from behind. As Daryl turned, to see his brother, he had no idea what was happening.

He found himself back on their porch, at the rental house and was momentarily worried to find his brother sitting right there next to him with a beer in his own hand, staring at the same sunset. He could still hear the ‘real Merle’, screaming obscenities and threats, in the garage behind them. His look of utter confusion must have been pretty obvious.

“I’m dead too, ya dumbass.” Merle laughed, saluting the garage. “I ain’t here.” He elaborated. “Hell, YOU ain’t here…. ‘s just a memory… ‘s your memory…. ‘s in your dumb, messed up, head.”

Daryl stared in disbelief but knew that Merle was telling the truth. “Am I dead?”

Merle laughed. “Nah.” He took a slug of beer. “Well, not yet anyway.”


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy weekend so I'm popping this one up a bit early. Hopefully I will have time to write the next one by Wednesday - I'll do my best ;)  
> Update: Yeah.... sorry that didn't happen. This next one is running very, very long and there's no obvious place I could split it. I'm going to put this beast up at the weekend (assuming I've finished it by then!?!?) and hopefully get back on track for double postings after that.

Suddenly he looked back towards the sunset and it was gone. He was up on the lookout at Alexandria, looking down on the kitchen garden.

“What’s she sayin’?” Merle asked as he leant nonchalantly against the wall.

“Who?” Daryl asked.

“Who the hell you think?” Merle responded. “Your girl… prissy little limey bi….” He stopped himself and smiled broadly at Daryl’s heckles raising by his side. “Hah, boy you’re too easy…. Kit.” He shoved Daryl’s shoulder and pointed, with an arm, unencumbered by metal, towards the garden below.

She wasn’t moving around the garden, teaching Enid, like he felt she should be. She was stood right in the middle of the stretch of garden visible from this spot. She was looking right up at him and she was talking… shouting it looked more like. He couldn’t hear her.

“I can’t hear.” He let out a frustrated grunt and pushed himself right up against and over the edge of the guard rail, trying to get closer, trying desperately to hear. “I can’t hear you.” He howled back at her.

“You don’t need to hear.” Hershal assured him, a gentle hand gripping his shoulder, right where Merle had been a second before.

“I don’t know what she’s sayin’” He shook his head in frustration, unwilling to take his eyes off her, trying his hardest to read her lips from a hundred feet or more away.

“But you do man.” Glenn reassured him, mirroring Hershal by placing a hand on his left shoulder.

Daryl was getting frantic now. He was glad to see both men but knew, somewhere inside, that they weren’t real and that she WAS. She was really speaking to him. From somewhere outside of this bizarre dream world, that seemed to exist only in Daryl’s head.

“You’ll always find her Daryl and she’ll always find you. That’s how it works. That’s what love is. You don’t need to hear her voice.” Glenn pulled his attention away from her and towards him. “You can feel her, right? Close by… touching your hand … yeah?”

Daryl nodded, he could feel her hand on his wrist. He looked down but his arm was untouched. He closed his eyes to the apparent bareness of his limb and searched for the sensation again. Her skin was damp and he knew she’d been wiping away tears. His heart ached at the thought of her sitting over him like that, all alone.

“I need to get out of here.” He moaned with frustration. “She needs me.”

“Does she?” Glenn asked. “She doesn’t seem like someone who needs anyone for anything.”

Daryl knew Glenn was right, she didn’t need him for anything in particular. He was pretty damned sure he’d needed her today. He was pretty damned certain she’d got him back to Alexandria somehow. He’d heard the voices of his family, during those brief pain-filled flashes he’d endured.

He was also certain that Glenn was wrong. She did need him, as much as he needed her. He felt it. He caught Glenn’s eye and the other man smiled knowingly.

“What else do you feel huh?” He asked. “What else is she saying to you man?”

“She wants me to go back to her.” Glenn patted his shoulder encouragingly. “She ….” Glenn nodded him along. “She loves me.”

Glenn’s smile was more than Daryl could take. He broke eye contact and shook his head, grabbing the rail in front of him.

“I don’t deserve it.” He growled, screwing his eyes shut.

Both hands on his shoulder gripped a little harder. “Sure you do.” Hershal murmered. “We all deserve some light in our lives Daryl and I reckon you’ve had more than your share of dark in your time.”

“Don’t use me as an excuse.” Glenn added. “You know that if I’d survived that night I wouldn’t have blamed you, just like no one else did man. You’re the only one who doesn’t leave the blame right where it belongs and on some level you know yourself that it wasn’t your fault. If you didn’t, then I wouldn’t be here telling you it wasn’t, now would I.” Daryl couldn’t quite get his head around that sentence.

“Alright.” Hershal had shaken his head at his son-in-law and Glenn sighed and tried again. “Put it this way; I know and you know that you’re going to feel some level of responsibility until the day you die and you’re going to be taking care of my wife and being the best damned uncle, to my kid, that you know how to be. But I know and you know, that’s all from the heart. The head knows that there was nothing you could have done differently that would have made a scrap of difference. That fucker wanted two. You know it, I know it and everyone else in that line-up knew it…. Now…. Get the fuck past it.” Daryl looked up, a little startled.

“Hey, there are advantages to being stuck with your vocabulary.” Glenn grinned cheekily. “Get in the game man. Make your life count. Make her life count.” Daryl felt the hands tighten, one last time as he looked back down on the garden and then release.

“She needs you.” Glen said.

“She wants you to go back to her.” Hershal added.

“You do deserve it, ya dumb redneck.” Glenn laughed. “And so does she.”

“She loves you.” They said in chorus.

\--------------

 

“Daryl.” She said. It was her, definitely her. Echoing and weak but definitely her voice. She was still shouting for him and this time he’d heard her. He had to get to her. He span on his heels to get to the ladder and everything rocked around him.

“Well.” Merle crooned, slapping his arm around Daryl’s shoulders as they span together. “Guess it was nice to catch up with the old codger and China but it ain’t that simple I’m afraid li’l brother.”

They were by the lake in Georgia now. Off in the distance, an oblivious Kit, swam in slow circles. Her body just visible, under the rippling surface, to the two brothers watching from high up on the bank.

“Mmmmmh, a man could get used to that I bet.” Merle smiled, with a suggestive raised eyebrow.

“Shut the fuck up.” Daryl groused, shrugging off his brother’s encompassing arm.

“Hah, you always were just too fuckin’ easy ta wind up.” Merle laughed, making himself comfortable on a nearby rock and turning his attention back to Kit. “Told ya I didn’t have no feelin’ for her.” He indicated the swimmer, splashing lightly in the distance.

“Yeah, ‘n then you said other things.” Daryl growled back.

“Hah, Oh yeah…. Well…. Wasn’t exactly lyin’ but I wouldn’ a said it if it hadn’t been so fuckin’ obvious you wanted her for your own damn self.” He took another swig of his beer. “Always too fuckin’ easy but I ain’t an animal… ain’t interested in goin’ after my own brother’s girl.”

Daryl smiled lightly at the concession.

“Ain’t like I’d a had a shot with her anyway…. You always were the sweet one baby brother.”

Daryl closed his eyes again. She was close. He could smell her, feel the heat of her body. He was taken back to that moment, as he’d held her, dripping, fresh from the lake. He opened his eyes but she was still a hundred feet or more away. He closed them again quickly and searched for the sensation.

This time she was rewriting history. He felt her breath against his face and the soft, warmth of her lips against his own. She held the kiss, long and sweet, as she cradled his face in her gentle hands.

“I’ll be back soon.” Her whispering voice echoed through his whole dream-world. “I love you.”

He shook his head at that. At everything. His whole being shook and railed against it. She was going and he knew where. She had to go. He knew the reasons. Somehow he’d absorbed the arguments had around his bedside. He knew she had to go but he didn’t want her going without him.

When the world coalesced into some kind of sense again, he felt restrained. Bound and helpless, he felt the ropes being loosened but not released. He began to struggle and heard the loud thunk of boots on the concrete floor. Looking up he recognised the step of his father as he left the room… the garage.

Daryl struggled against the knots. Thrashing and writhing against his bounds. It took a while for him to wear himself out enough to need a breather. In the darkness, at the very edge of his vision, he noticed movement.

“Gotta go li’l brother.” Merle blustered, as he made his way to the other door. He was eighteen and bruised from his first and last real battering at the hands of their dad. “This place ain’t for me… you’ll be a’right.” He was gone now, past the bounds of the fuzzy memory this particular dream was based on. His voice continued though, older, more grit, less fear... less guilt. “Know it don’t seem like it now… you’re stronger ‘n me… stronger ‘n anyone I know…. You’ll make it… you’ll find your way…. You’ll get back where you need to be… leave all this shit behind you when you go li’l brother.”

Daryl continued to struggle for what felt like hours, days, weeks. This wasn’t a memory, this was invention. He’d applied it to himself but his only memory of this shit had been Merle trussed up like a turkey, not him. Merle had been out in a few minutes, once they got home, this seemed so much longer.

Throughout his struggles he heard the ghosts of the long dead, all around him. His mama calling him in for dinner, the cry of a baby that seemed to echo in the distance. He heard T-dog and Dale arguing with a grunting, angry, desperate sounding man that might’ve been Shane. Lori asking where Carl was for the millionth time that week. Sasha and Tyreese laughing nearby, the sound echoing around like they were back at the prison. Bob thanking him for bringing him back home that day, giving him something to live for, something to care about. A gruff man with a cold heart telling him there was nothing sadder than an outdoor cat that thinks he’s an indoor cat. Abraham laughing his ass off and calling someone or something ‘bitch-nuts’.

Finally he heard the echoing memory of Beth, singing a sad, country song. Beth, telling him they had to try. And then she was closer, speaking to him, not then but now.

“You never were an indoor cat.” She said. “And no one ever expected you to be.” She was moving away, her voice fainter and fainter. “She don’t want an indoor cat.” She assured him. “She wouldn’t know what to do with one.”

A little startled by that last visitation, Daryl took a while to realise there were hands behind him, working at the ropes. He hadn’t expected the voice that came with it. The ropes were invention but the words were memory. Another dusty floor, another kind of pain, blood everywhere.

“S’alright boy… you’re gonna be OK now… ain’t gonna let nothin’ like this happen again… you got me now Daryl… no one’s gonna touch my sister’s kid like that again long as I’m around.” He couldn’t turn his head, couldn’t see but he didn’t need to. Uncle Kyle was there. Everything would be OK now. Not perfect, never perfect but he’d been saved. “You’re safe now boy.” The burning sensation of the stripes on his back had been there throughout, he realised now. Uncle Kyle’s voice soothed them all away. Daryl closed his eyes and gave himself up to the peace that came with the lack of pain.

He felt hot breath on his face and a wet tongue on his cheek as his eyes began to open. Blinded by the sun’s light, he took long seconds to adjust and take in the world around him and the dog by his side, watching him with intent curiosity.

From the next room he heard a woman (Maria?) shouting. “Kieran?” there was a distant, muffled response. “I gave Daryl his shot, I’ll be back in a couple hours… check on him in an hour or so OK?”


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for not posting on Wednesday, hopefully the longer chapter makes up for it a bit. Also, apologies to anyone who read the previous posting of this chapter before I realised I'd put it up with a missing section - Doh!!!

Kit was quiet. She didn’t want to be here, none of them did, they were all preoccupied but with quiet exchanged glances, they all agreed to just let her be. They’d need her to direct them once they got close but until then they’d agreed to give her some space.

Rick, Michonne and Tara used the drive to hatch out various ‘if they do this then we do that’ scenarios. Aaron, Eric and Mike were in the vehicle behind and Freddie and Ben brought up the rear. It had already been decided that, once she’d got them close enough, Kit would switch to the rear car, allowing Rick and Tara to go in as the advance party, with the others close behind to spot them and back them up. Freddie and Ben would hold back in reserve. If everything fell apart they’d go back for help or attack themselves, depending how dire the situation looked. Rosita had been left in charge in Alexandria, she’d be martialling the troops and monitoring the radio, just in case.

Finally, they were close and Michonne gently coaxed Kit out of her dream-world. They both hoped she’d managed a little shut-eye, or at least some kind of rest, during the journey so far. She took stock of their surroundings and directed Rick, as they approached the higher ground.

She’d estimated that they were a little over a mile from the homestead, when they found that the track narrowed. Hemmed in on both sides, they would have to approach in convoy down the narrow pass. It was risky. This would be a great opportunity for an ambush. They had to hope that the other community would want to check out the strangers before just killing them outright. Still…. It bore stopping and thinking about. This was much further back than they had ever planned for. They needed to decide which vehicles were going to make this last approach. Who would be in them and which vehicle would be left in reserve here.

Aaron and Michonne were the best shots, so they were out of the two lead vehicles first. They each found good cover fast and watched the surrounding woods, weapons raised, ready. The vehicles had been brought to a stop to allow cover on all sides, as everyone else gathered between them to discuss their plans.

It took a couple of short minutes to decide on the configuration and the group broke up to filter back to their assigned vehicles. Kit was a little too tired to be overly careful. She forgot where she was and what they were doing for a second and stood up in full view, to make her way around to the rear vehicle. Just seconds later, a piercing sound tore through the quiet woods around them.

“Kit!” The woman screamed again and now there was the accompanying sound of running feet, branches brushed aside, twigs broken underfoot and the shouts of other worried voices.

Aaron and Michonne had the direction in a split second but didn’t know what to do, as a woman came darting out of cover and into their view, unarmed and obviously heedless of the danger she was in, the danger that her own people were screaming at her to keep away from. She didn’t seem to care.

Kit couldn’t believe her eyes. She didn’t care about being a ‘target’ either. She ran towards the approaching woman in full view of whoever may have her in their own sights beyond those trees. The two women met on the edge of the treeline and crashed together, rocking back and forth in a violent, happy, clashing embrace.

“I thought you were dead.” Kit exclaimed.

“I thought you were in Texas, kicking dead arse.” The other woman responded.

They both laughed, completely oblivious to the audience on both of their respective ‘sides’. Audiences who had no idea what the hell was going on, or what it meant but who were both still edgy, despite figuring that a stand-up fight was now off the table.

\-------------------

 

Lisa was overjoyed. As far as she was concerned, it was the best thing that had happened to her little group since the beginning. They hadn’t done badly. In fact they’d done pretty bloody well all told. It had been a complete fluke that she and her own family had been staying with Shauna when everything went tits up. Just luck.

At home they’d have been stuck with everyone else in suburbia. Dallas had fallen before all the networks went down, it was unlikely that Houston would’ve been far behind. Sure, everyone in Texas was tooled up to the nines but that didn’t always count for much, she’d seen that for herself enough times here. She couldn’t imagine how it would have gone down if they’d been at home.

Sometimes firepower was more of a hindrance than a help, it lead you into a false sense of security. Brad had been armed to the teeth when he got bitten two months into the breakout. He’d saved Ginny. Their eldest was still alive because of her dad but it had been a careless moment that hadn’t needed to happen. They’d all gotten a lot smarter since but that didn’t make it any easier to face this world without the father of her children.

To see Kit again though. To know that she wasn’t on the other side of the continent, fighting the dead and struggling to survive with a bunch of random strangers; when, for the sake of a few days, they could have been together… Two old travel buddies kicking some dead arse together. The thought was flippant but she couldn’t help thinking that they’d have been a lot better off, from day one, if they’d had a ‘Kit’ amongst them. A real ‘little miss organised’ with the apocalyptic skill sets to boot. Maybe Brad would still be here.

She’d taken it on faith that whoever Kit was with would be decent people but as it turned out, Kit had quickly let slip that she’d only really been with them for a couple of weeks. It had taken her most of the last three years to travel this far and she’d spent most of the time on her own. That wasn’t surprising really. Kit had always been self-sufficient. Sometimes it was hard for the friends who dipped in and out of her life to see the vulnerability that bubbled just below Kit’s tough exterior. She’d always been fun, thoughtful and friendly enough but few people had ever touched her heart.

Lisa liked to think that she and her kids warranted a special place in her thoughts and Kit had certainly seemed just as pleased to see Lisa as she had been to see her. The first words out of her mouth, after that initial exchange, had been questions about her family. Kit had known the problems that Lisa and her husband had been having when she saw them last but Lisa knew that her fallen face, at the news of Brad’s death, had been genuine regret for his loss and sympathy for her and the kids.

Introductions were made and handshakes exchanged all around. The wind had been taken out of everyone’s sails by the greeting of the two women. They’d all been reticent but certainly ready to fight but all of that had had to be forgotten, as the two women clung to each other and refused to let go. Everyone would have to just put on their big boy or girl pants and talk now instead.

They’d all walked up the avenue together, past all the various traps and speed bumps they’d set up years ago and luckily, still never had to use. No one knew they were up here. The few people that had thought it was a place worth riding out the storm in, had come here early on and stayed. All of them (the one’s who’d survived) were still here. They were small family groups that had gravitated towards a stronghold where they thought they could survive. They’d met each other early on, made alliances and become a community.

Lionel and Patricia were the natural patriarch and matriarch of the little farmstead they’d renovated and extended since they all arrived. On their home turf, the elderly couple were considered ‘in charge’. They’d come up here because they’d been the executors of their old pal Willy’s estate. The wily old goat had been a nut-job survivalist and had an honest to god nuclear bunker buried up here on his land, next to some old out buildings and a barn that his family had had in the family since the bloody Mayflower or something. The old couple had come up here for the protection that the bunker seemed to offer and had never left the protection of the hill and the surrounding forest since. They’d never gone out on ‘shopping’ raids to the towns and they had to take it on faith, from the younger members, what was going on in the wider world.

Ted and Alice and their son Dean were all handy on the farmstead. The cows were theirs. They’d remembered the hill from Ted’s childhood, playing up here when he visited an old uncle who had an airstream in the woods for hunting trips. There was a big meadow, right on the brow of the hill but well sheltered by the woods on all sides and he’d remembered nearby, dilapidated, buildings. He’d thought there must be a way to get a small number of their herd up there to safety and ride out this craziness. They’d lost their daughter early on, along with her boyfriend and the whole family had taken it hard. They had been a godsend to Lisa and her kids, especially after Brad had gone. They’d all helped each other through really dark times in those early days.

Nick, Shauna and Gracie were Brad’s family and they’d always seemed a little distant to Lisa. That all changed when the world went to shit. They had all saved each other a thousand times by now and there was no stronger bond on earth than that shared by every member of this remote community. That didn’t stop it being fucking amazing to see an old friend though and Lisa couldn’t stop smiling as the two groups met and exchanged brief histories. Swapped information about what they had and what they needed. Starting down the road to cooperation and a brighter future for everyone.

They’d done well here on the hill. It had helped that they’d all been handy before the world went to hell. Lionel and Patty had brought their horses and chickens. Ted and Alice brought the cows. Shauna had been a vet at a local petting zoo and had brought as many of the potentially useful animals as they could fit in two big carriers, before setting the rest free and hoping for the best. They’d also taken every scrap of equipment and all the drugs she could lay her hands on, before heading for high ground. It had been her husband Nick, who’d remembered playing up here in old outbuildings as a child. His dad had been a hunter too and had left his boys to play in the safety of the ‘camp’ while he and his friends went off into the woods. Nick had even known Willy and the old goat had shown him a well on the land, which had still been there and saved all of their bacon (quite literally) forty years later.

They’d all come here with something and it had helped them all survive but it was all stretching too thin these days. With only two full grown and able men and three full grown and able women, there was just too much work to go around. The kids tried to help out on the homestead itself but their parents were loathe to let them go ‘shopping’ without a decent contingent of adults and that had resulted in less and less necessary supplies for the animals, who far outnumbered the humans trying to sustain them.

The farmers knew how to farm and the vet knew how to be a vet but they all knew that things were getting worse and worse. In some ways they’d been too successful and had saved too many animals but they couldn’t bring themselves to cull, where there was no lameness, sickness or need for food. A larger community would help in that dilemma Lisa guessed. Alexandria and the other communities also seemed ‘people rich’. Maybe they could tempt a few seasonal workers their way, or at least rely on those communities to help supply them with the necessities to allow this food chain to function for everyone.

After the initial shock and mistrust of ‘first contact’, everything seemed to go well and agreements were reached quickly. Rick and his group seemed like practical, pragmatic and fair people. They recognised that this was a community with a lot to offer and a lot of problems that needed addressing. He’d asked for volunteers to stay behind right now, today and Lisa almost burst into tears as four hands went up, among the newcomers.

Their leader had told the woman, Tara, that they had more pressing need for her at home but he was happy to let all three of the men stay. He was leaving a third of his party with them. Three strapping men to help scavenge needed supplies, rebuild fencing that would allow the cattle to graze in the meadow again and help finish repairs to the barn that had taken a serious back seat for months now. This was mana from heaven to the community and all he’d asked for up front, as a down payment for future trade and co-operation was a churn of milk, two wheels of the cheese they’d made last autumn, agreement that Alexandrian hunters could come up here twice a month for two day hunts, two goats and ten of the chickens.

If he’d asked for twice as many goats and chickens they would have been happy to spare them, they had more than enough livestock. There were four wheels of cheese in the pantry and the two remaining was more than enough to last them a month or two. The milk was surplus really, it would have gone to waste in any case and Lisa guessed that Kit would be one of the hunters, so she’d been chuffed to bits by that portion of the agreement. Lionel hadn’t even tried to bargain Rick down. He saw the joy on all of their faces and the strong arms of the three men, willing to help them up here ‘until the job was done’ and he held out his hand to shake Rick’s.

Lisa could see the slight discomfort on Patty’s face. She knew the old woman felt like they’d robbed the newcomers blind. Here they were, answering every prayer the community had uttered for months and asking for nothing that would be considered any kind of hardship in return. She’d immediately tried to mitigate her own guilt by offering what hospitality she could. “Please, stay for some lunch at least.” She’d practically begged.

Rick had looked sad to turn her down but he and the portion of his group that were going, seemed to be in a rush to get back home, now that friendly terms had been agreed. Kit seemed just as ready to go as the others. Lisa had been a little surprised that her hand hadn’t been raised, when Rick asked for volunteers. She would have thought that her old friend might want to jump ship entirely, having only been in Alexandria two weeks and now having found a familiar face here. She would at least have expected her to want to stay a few days, just to catch up properly.

Puzzled by her behaviour, Lisa watched Kit, Aaron and Tara go with Patty to retrieve the cheese and milk, while Ted and Shauna took the three new ‘temporary’ members of their community to choose the goats and collect some chickens. While the leaders were chatting, Lisa took her opportunity to quiz the other man, Eric, to try and find out what was up.

“So, how come you guys are in such a rush to leave?” She asked bluntly, figuring there was no point pussy footing around, if they really were in such a tearing hurry. “I would’ve thought Kit might want to stay at least.” She let a little note of ‘wounded bird’, drop into her tone. He seemed like an empathetic type of guy, hopefully it would help him feel more like sharing.

“Oh, I’m sure she’d love to stay if things were different honey.” He answered, reaching for her arm, in a comforting gesture.

“Bingo!” thought Lisa.

“It’s just…” He lowered his tone. Clearly it wasn’t a secret exactly but he didn’t want Kit to catch him talking about this, even with a woman who was obviously an old friend. “The reason we knew about this community was that we had a hunting party over this way. There was an accident and one of our people was hurt in the woods here yesterday…. We had to come up here this morning, before he was conscious… we’re all just a little worried about him.” Eric sighed. “Some of us are like you guys here…. He’s our family.”

That made sense for the rest of them but not for Kit. No one was ‘family’ for Kit. She wasn’t heartless and she loved her friends to an extent but as far as family went…. No. She’d never had one and didn’t know what it meant.

Lisa put the conversation on the back burner for a while as Patty returned and they all began making their way to their own vehicles. They had one pick up that would do for carrying the chickens and goats, they’d prep that and send someone back with it to collect the animals. The milk had been decanted into several gallon bottles and the rest of the party would wait at the vehicles for the pick up to return, before heading off back to Alexandria.

Most of her fellows said their goodbyes at the farmstead but Lisa linked arms with her old friend and helped Rick, Michonne, Aaron, Eric, Tara and Kit to carry their loads back up the avenue. Her kids trailed along excitedly behind as Lisa tried to puzzle out this mystery. Why would Kit go back to a bunch of strangers when she could stay here, in her bloody element no less, with an old friend who she was obviously pleased to see?

As Rick filled the rest of the group in on some of the detail of the arrangements he’d worked out with Patty and Lionel; the timescale for their next big visit, their chat about upgrading their radio equipment so they could join the burgeoning communication network etcetera. Lisa let her mind wander back to what Eric had said. Kit must have been in this ‘hunting party’…. This guy of theirs had been injured… Maybe Kit had in some way been responsible for him getting hurt?... Maybe she felt guilty?... Or maybe everything wasn’t as rosy in Alexandria as it seemed, maybe they blamed her for this guy’s injuries? Maybe she felt coerced to stay until he was better? Or had to work off some kind of debt?

Lisa’s mind conjured up all kinds of crazy scenarios, all the way to the cars. They all seemed like nice enough people but her imagination was in overdrive and by the time they were packing the milk bottles into the boots of the two cars, she’d basically decided they could be some kind of freaky cult for all she knew and she’d better keep her kids away from them.

Kit hopped up on the back of the pick up with Rick, to pull some tarp out of the kit box there and Lisa was just deciding to call the kids and tell them to head back home, when the unmistakeable roar of an engine, being driven at breakneck speed along a rough and pot holed road came from behind her.


	70. Chapter 70

Everyone tensed in readiness and Lisa span on her heels, just in time to see the roughest looking piece of shit car, she’d ever come across in her life, screech to a halt about twenty yards away. The driver’s door opened immediately and the largest dog – in fact, never mind ‘dog’, that thing looked more like a wolf - she’d seen in years leaped out of the door straight after the man himself.

He looked a mess. His long hair, lank and his head bandaged. There were blood stains and rips in his clothes and he obviously had an injury, as he bound out of the car and made a desperate beeline for the pick up, with a limping gait. He looked like someone you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley certainly but he seemed unarmed, so it was the dog that had really scared the shit out of Lisa.

Dog packs were rare but they did come around occasionally and they represented a pretty formidable threat. Your average family Fido had very rapidly devolved into their dog equivalent of cavemen and the community had become accustomed to shooting any dogs they saw on sight. Even the danger of drawing the dead with the noise of a gunshot was less than allowing a dog pack to enter their territory unchecked.

Lisa was initially terrified by the animal and frightened for her children, still straggling but too nearby for comfort. However, she quickly recognised that this was a tame beast. It trotted calmly and happily behind its master and showed no aggression, nor even much interest, in anyone or anything else. Somewhat relieved, her attention wandered more curiously, to the reactions of the others.

Everyone had spun to see the arrival of the newcomer and had tensed, armed and ready, until they saw the man emerge. Lisa noticed Kit catch sight of him and make her way towards the tailgate, she realised that everyone she could see had broken out in a giant grin of recognition and felt safe enough to breathe again. Just as she realised the man must be another Alexandrian, two rather extraordinary things happened at almost the same moment.

Michonne, who was standing just a few yards from Lisa, joyously yelled “Oh my god, Daryl!” Which reminded Lisa of a conversation, long forgotten until that moment.

And the other thing was that Kit held out her arms to the man, as he in turn, reached up and plucked her off the back of the pick up, pulling her into him and holding her tight as he claimed a bruising, passionate, desperate kiss! …. Which Kit returned!! Seemingly with just as much passion and desperation!!!

Lisa had no idea what she was even seeing, the concept seemed so alien to her. Kit had never, to her knowledge, shared such an intimate embrace with a member of the opposite sex since they’d known each other. Yet there she was, practically melting into this scruffy stranger’s arms, sinking into his kiss, with something that looked a lot like relief. Not just that but kissing him back!!! She was almost sure she’d caught a flash of clashing tongues for godsake!!!

Suddenly everything crashed together in Lisa’s mind. “Erm…” She began, turning towards Michonne with a quizzical expression. “Did you say ‘Daryl’?” she asked.

\-----------------

 

It had been easy enough to get out of the room and the house without rousing any unwanted attention. Daryl knew he had an hour before he’d be checked on and he’d only wasted ten minutes or so of that time getting himself upright, figuring out if he could bear weight on his hip, finding his damned boots and over shirt and giving himself the briefest of shaky, clean up jobs in the en suite bathroom.  With the dog shadowing his every move, he’d made a dash for the landy and retrieved his bow and hand gun before racing, as fast as his leg would allow, for Alexandria’s very own ‘back door’.

The project had been undertaken during the expansion of the wall, after they’d finally put Negan ‘to bed’. The need for a quiet exit strategy had been more than evident during their short and traumatic brush with the Saviours and a hidden door, undetectable from either side, unless you knew where to look and had a key, seemed like a good idea. Not many people knew where the key was but Daryl was one of those people. He’d turned over the stone on Reg’s grave and retrieved it before making his way to the spot.

Beyond the wall, he was also one of those who had dotted a handful of emergency vehicles in the surrounding area. They were all pretty ropey looking – deliberately so but they would get you from A to B in an emergency and had enough gas for putting a decent number of miles between the driver and any imminent trouble in Alexandria. Daryl had prayed that it would hold enough gas to allow him to catch up to Rick and the others.

He knew that whoever had been left in charge would never have allowed him to leave in his state. He had a nagging feeling that that person might be Rosita and he knew that, of all his family, she was the one who he couldn’t just bluster past. She’d have put him on his ass before she’d let him walk out the front gate and in his current state, she’d be more than capable of doing just that.

He knew they’d have taken a radio, he knew that they’d keep in touch. He could have just asked but he couldn’t face the thought of Kit in any kind of danger, without him by her side, out there. He couldn’t sit on his ass waiting for word, he had to get out, had to follow. That limited his options, it meant he had to get out before anyone noticed he was awake and tried to stop him. He had no idea how much time had passed in his dream-world between her kiss goodbye and his waking up but he hoped it hadn’t been much.

\-----------------

Three fucking hours apparently. And here he was arriving to save the day an hour later than even that. He guessed it didn’t matter anymore as everyone was safe and the mission had luckily gone about as well as anyone could have wished but it did make him feel a little dumb. If things had gone badly, they’d all have been long dead and he’d have been driving into a world of hurt himself by this time. Not that he’d have cared. If Kit and his family had already been killed, he’d have welcomed a world of hurt, like a comfort blanket.

He hadn’t been thinking straight. Daryl hadn’t had a sensible waking thought in his head since yesterday morning and didn’t have one again until Kit was safe in his arms, with her lips right where they belonged, locked on his. He vaguely became aware of the dog, brushing against both of their legs, as she greeted her mistress. Then he realised that everyone else had been stood around watching, as he’d arrived. They’d still be watching now.

As that thought crashed across his mind and he worried that Kit would be mad as hell - She had asked if they could keep this between them for now after all and here he was, outing them as a couple, right in front of most of his family group – he heard the crackle of the radio.

“A-Base to Ranger one.” Came the unmistakable sound of Rosita’s voice, sounding tense and troubled.

“Ranger one responding, what’s up Base?” Rick replied. Daryl could hear the cocky smile in the other man’s voice and held Kit a little tighter.

“Ahhh, don’t know how to break this to you Ranger one but Sleeping Beauty apparently woke up and as far as we can tell he’s not in Alexandria. We’re not sure how long a lead time he had… didn’t want to worry you until we were sure… no one saw him leave but I just had them check and …. Well the KEY is gone.” She was trying her best not to mention their escape hatch over the radio, in case unfriendly ears were listening in. Daryl felt awful for putting everyone through this, especially now he knew that everything here was fine and Rosita could probably have told him that, if he’d risked asking.

“Yeah, don’t worry Base, we have eyes on Sleeping Beauty.” Rick and the others were actually laughing. Daryl risked lowering her down to the ground and releasing Kit’s lips, just enough to catch her eye and see how much trouble he was in.

Rosita didn’t sound troubled anymore. More like mad as hell. “Well you tell that redneck asshole that I’m gonna kick his white trash ass when he gets back here. Head injury or no head injury!” she shouted before unleashing a torrent of incomprehensible Spanish expletives, as she apparently handed the radio to Dave to sign off with Rick.

Kit laughed along with everyone else and Daryl figured she’d let Rosita take care of his punishment for coming out here after them, like a dumbass. It looked suspiciously like he was forgiven for kissing her in public too, as she pulled him down, with strong arms wrapped around his neck, into a hug.

“You’re such an idiot.” She whispered in his ear. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

He laughed at that himself. “Well you’re an idiot too, for leavin’ the dog behind.” He muttered back. “But I still fuckin’ love ya an’ you’re welcome.”

At which point, life seemed to have resumed around them, as Michonne hopped up on the truck bed to help finish what Rick and Kit had started. Another woman had made her way to the back of the truck too and made her presence felt, with a polite but insistent clearing of the throat. Kit and Daryl turned in each other’s arms to meet her gaze.

She seemed about Kit’s age, maybe a little older. Blonde hair, with a greeny-bluish tinge at the ends, like she’d been swimming in iron ore infested water. She looked straight at Kit with a pointed, knowing smile and raised eyebrows before turning her attention to Daryl himself and holding out her hand.

“Daryl Dixon I presume?” She asked, in an interesting accent, as Kit covered her eyes with her hand, made a little whimpering noise and inexplicably tried to fold herself into Daryl’s shoulder to hide.


	71. Chapter 71

The milk would spoil if they left it out in this heat much longer, so Aaron and Eric had offered to go home, with news of the specifics of the new relationship with this community – and probably other relationship news too. However, looking at the state of Daryl and knowing that he hadn’t seen Kit eat a thing since they’d practically force fed her last night, Rick decided that the rest of them had better take Patty up on her offer of lunch after all.

He shouted over to Lisa to ask if she thought Patty would mind and she just laughed. It looked like he’d interrupted her flow with Kit and Daryl but she didn’t seem to mind and they certainly didn’t. She called for her kids to run back and warn the others they were coming. She and Tara saw Eric and Aaron off, with waves and nods from Daryl and Kit, before helping Rick and Michonne finish prepping the truck for the animals. They all left Daryl and Kit to ‘catch up’, until the job was done.

“Don’t mind telling you I was a bit put out at how happy she seemed about leaving before.” Lisa muttered conspiratorially to them both as she joined them on the truck. “But now….” She looked back at the couple. “Well… I suppose I get it.”

“Still sucks when your buddy dumps you for some guy though, huh?!” Michonne grinned back.

“Hah – yeah but she deserves it. I’ve never seen her that happy since I’ve known her.” Lisa replied.

Rick and Michonne nodded. “I get the feeling it’s the same for Daryl.” He put in. “We didn’t know him before but… I don’t think he’s ever had something like this.”

“At least we finally know that there IS a ‘this’.” Tara put in, as she passed a line through from the truck’s cab.

Lisa looked confused, so Michonne went on. “They been pussy footin’ around it since Kit brought him home. He hadn’t done shit about it up to a week ago, I can tell you that… I guess somewhere between then and now they got their act together and got themselves on the same sheet… uhem… I mean page.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively and Rick laughed.

Tara shook her head dramatically. “And it only took a snake bite, a head injury, an accidental overdose and the prospect of Kit being out here, potentially facing some scary bunch of new guys, for Daryl to finally ‘out’ them to us.” They all laughed a little at that.

\-----------------------

Daryl and Kit had eventually called up to see if there was anything they could help with, by which time it was all but done. Rick told Daryl to follow the truck in the escape car. He had an idea but wasn’t sure how it would pan out yet, he figured they were both too tired and happy to question much at this point anyway. He, Michonne, Tara and Lisa drove the avenue in the truck, with Daryl, Kit and the dog bringing up the rear and following their tail closely, to avoid the traps and speedbumps in their path. At the little farmstead, they found a hive of activity in the main living area.

It had been bare earth between the main barn and an old outbuilding, when they’d first arrived but they’d enclosed it and put on a tin roof to provide a daytime communal area for cooking, eating and relaxing, when they had the time. The main barn had been roughly  split up to provide shelter for the animals during harsh weather on one side, with some dry storage between that and the humans’ living quarters on this side.  There was a roughly plumbed, rough and ready but serviceable washroom and toilets, just inside the main door at this end. The other side held a store room that Alice and Ted had made nice over the years and which housed them and their son, although the boy was starting to grate at sharing a room with his parents and often found his own corner, or slept in the hay loft of the main barn.

Lisa’s in-laws had come up here with an RV and Gracie was still young enough to be happy bunking down with the oldies. Lisa and Brad had commandeered an RV too but it mostly lay empty these days, as she and the kids had moved into a bunk room that the community had put together from the bones of the old outbuilding. Patty and Lionel still felt safer sleeping in Willy’s old bunker but they’d brought an old camper up here too and they still had various tents and bedding from members of the community who’d long-since perished on raids in the towns.

All told, there were plenty of places to bunk down for the night and the community had already offered for the newcomers to stay the night. The fact that they had so much spare room and no lack of food or water to feed them, had been half the reason Rick had asked for a show of hands for volunteers to stay right then. He just hoped they had the other resources that would help his plan.

The kids were running around, laying the big table, as Lionel barked orders and Patty fussed over the cooking pots. In truth, she always made twice as much food as they needed whenever she cooked, so there was no problem stretching it around a few more mouths. There was a lack of bowls, spoons and seats though.

They’d decided that lunch would be a two sitting affair today. The kids were all too excited to sit still anyway, so they were sent off with an apple for now. Ted and Neil were busy showing the two younger volunteers what was what with the animals on the other side of the barn but Mike was back from a quick recce, of the required building works at the farmstead, so he joined them all for lunch.

Assigning himself and Tara the seats either side of Shauna, so they could talk during the meal, Rick had tasked Michonne and Lisa with making sure that the love-birds didn’t make it onto the bench seats. Lisa steered them towards the sofa, nearest her own bunk room. “No room for everyone.” She’d said. “You two don’t mind sharing the sofa do you?”

After everyone else’s portions had been spooned out, Lisa had also earmarked the remains of one of the pans for them to share between them on the sofa. She’d brought over a blanket and covered their laps to shield them from the hot pan and passed them the last remaining spoon, with a wink to Kit. “I’m sure you don’t mind sharing.” She smiled, returning to sit at the table herself, squeezing in next to Mike.

If either Kit or Daryl were put out by being ‘the poor cousins’ in this scenario, they certainly didn’t show any signs of it. Unbeknown to them, they’d been given by far the largest portion of the stew and the biggest hunk of bread to accompany it. They’d already talked back at the cars and on the road. Kit wasn’t mad that he’d outed them and she’d said she felt weird but comfortable enough with being ‘close’ in front of the others. Daryl had to admit he felt a bit weird about it himself but he wasn’t going to give it up for anything.

They sat close on the couch, Kit curling her legs up to lean more comfortably against his side, Daryl with his arm wrapped around her back, as they fed each other. Neither of them had thought about food until they were safely reunited but they were both ravenous and finished their stew long before the rest of the diners.

As Daryl lowered the pan onto the ground, he felt Kit snuggle closer and lay her head on his shoulder. He figured she wouldn’t have slept much in the past thirty hours or so, so it didn’t surprise him as her breathing stretched out and deepened, until it was quite clear that she’d fallen asleep. He pulled her in closer, trying to position himself to be more comfortable for her to rest against, as she napped. He figured she deserved the rest.

He looked around the bare settlement he’d observed from afar, just two days ago. It was a mess but from the brief overview he’d got from Kit on the way here, it was certainly a salvageable mess. As they’d thought… too many animals, not enough people or resources to tend them properly. Alexandria could help with that. So could The Kingdom and Hilltop.

All of the communities had filled out after Negan. There were plenty of people who might appreciate a new start in a new community. Daryl could think of four or five who’d consider this place a real opportunity, right off the top of his head. He had the benefit of having lived in all three communities, four if you included the Sanctuary. He might not have been the friendliest person in any of those places but he’d still been himself. He’d been observant. He knew how people ticked and he knew the characters that would lap this place up. If it weren’t for his family back in Alexandria, he might have been one of them himself.

He worried about Kit though. She had a friend here now herself. Would she want to move? Would she want him to go with her if she did? Would he go with her if she did? He found himself looking from face to face around the cramped table in front of him and at the old couple bustling around, filling water jugs and stopping to chat and laugh with Rick.

They seemed like one big community already. Firm friends but some were family to him and the others were just strangers. Unknown quantities. He hadn’t really let himself trust those again yet. He had at the prison and look how that ended. He had begun to try in Alexandria and that had just lead to betrayal and Negan. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to trust again just yet, in anything but the family he knew, the home and the community he’d gotten used to, or the woman sleeping at his side. That said... they'd all been strangers at some point. Would he ever be able to view these new faces as family, he wondered.


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be away this weekend I'm afraid, so no update. Sorry. Hope this helps tide you over to next Wednesday.

“Hey sleepy head.” Rick whispered, shaking Daryl’s shoulder.

He woke with a start from a dreamless sleep. One minute he’d been analysing the busy view in front of him and the next he was waking to see empty benches and a table filled with cleaned and dried pots. Patty back at the stove, prepping for round two. He’d jerked awake and looked to see if he’d woken Kit but she was still out like a light.

“I bet she was a light sleeper on the road but I guess she’s found some comfort in Alexandria.” Rick observed. “And I guess it followed her here.” He added pointedly.

Daryl gave him his best ‘I ain’t raising to that shit’ face and brushed an errant strand of hair back behind her ear protectively.

“We gettin’ on back now?” Daryl asked, trusting himself to look back at his friend.

“Well…” Rick began. “We are.” He indicated the truck in the distance, where Michonne and Tara were closing up the tail gate on the loaded animals. “I need you to stay here.”

“What?” he barked, before immediately worrying that he’d woken Kit again. She made a little mumbling noise against his chest but didn’t wake. Apparently she really needed this nap. He looked back at Rick, an accusation and a question hanging in the set of his expression.

Rick smiled back, it wasn’t like there was much Daryl could do in his current situation but sit there and listen.  “She needs rest.” He began. “You have no idea what she went through while you were ‘out’. I bet she didn’t mention that you needed blood and she had her arm out and a line in before I even had a chance to object.”

A dark cloud crossed over those blue eyes and Rick had his answer. “Didn’t think so.” He nodded. “Well, take my word for it, she needs a couple of quiet days, somewhere that she’s going to be well fed and she has a friend here that she hasn’t seen in years and thought was dead.” Rick was encouraged to see that wavering look on the other man’s face.

“I figure I owe her a little catch up vacation but I need you here too.” He went on. “This community is a SERIOUS find man, I mean game changing resources and potential for all of the communities.” He looked over towards Patty, making sure she was absorbed with her cooking, rather than his quiet words. “I’ve asked them if you two can stay for a couple of days and recoup. Shauna is a veterinarian and she’s cobbled together a similar drug mix to the one the Doc prescribed for you yesterday. She can take care of your bite and any side effects just as well as we could back at home and she’s willing to.”

Rick’s register lowered a little further as he changed tone. “Really…. I need your eyes and ears here. I need to know that this is all as good as it seems. That these people can be trusted.” He shook his head a little. “I think they can, I got a good feeling but I’ve been wrong before.”

“So have I.” Daryl replied.

Rick nodded in acknowledgment. “On intentions, motivations, maybe once or twice, yeah.” He agreed. “But you read people, in essentials, better and quicker than anyone else I have available.” He looked around him at the shack. “You’re observant. You’ll see what they have and you know what we have and what’s left out there for those willing to go and get it. So does she.” He pointed to Kit as he looked back at his friend. “I need to know how we can best help them to help us and you’re my best way to do it.”

Daryl nodded his approval  of the plan. “A’right.”

“We’ll leave you the radio… battery should last you a few days… limit its use to emergencies and your reports to once a day.” Rick stood. “The Kingdom’s within range too if you need help in a hurry…You got authority to speak for me, for Alexandria, if you need to make any deals…. Call us to let us know if and when you need anything we got, I’ll fill Ezekiel and Maggie in when we get back… I’m pretty sure they’d be happy to give you the same authority. I’ll confirm that during tomorrow’s report.”

Rick put out his hand to shake. Daryl nodded and took it in his own. “Keep the rust bucket … we topped it up for ya… take some time to recover first and just come home whenever you’re ready brother.”

\---------------------

Daryl was surprised at how calmly he watched Rick, Michonne and Tara as they took their leave and drove off without him. If he was honest, he was glad for this opportunity. This chance, not just to take a break out here in the comparative wilderness, where he belonged, with the woman he loved. But also the chance to prove himself, the chance to redeem himself a little. Maybe not to the others – no one ever seemed to feel like he needed to redeem himself in their eyes but he still felt it in himself.

As he mused he became aware of Lisa, who’d come back, after seeing the Alexandrians off, to stand near the sofa. He wasn’t really sure where to start with the woman. From what he’d gathered during their initial, interrupted meeting, she already knew a shit-tonne more about him that he would have thought Kit would have shared in the hour or so they’d had together, even to an old friend. Without Kit as a buffer, he didn’t really know where he stood with the woman who seemed to wear a permanent ‘knowing’ grin.

“Bless her, she must be knackered.” Lisa offered, as an opener, nodding towards her sleeping friend.

“Yeah… she must’a bin up most o’ the night.” He stroked back her hair again gently. “An’ she gave blood too ‘parently.” He shook his head half in frustration and half in wonder.

“Mmmm, well don’t worry about that, she’s strong as an Ox that one. She’ll be alright.” Lisa smiled reassuringly and went on. “Me and the kids are stopping in our old digs in the camper for a few days, so we’ve set up the bunk room here for you and Kit.” She nodded to the door beside the sofa.

Daryl would have objected but she’d crossed her arms and had that same determined icy set to her voice, that brooked no opposition. He was familiar with it from Kit and knew better than to bother arguing. It sounded like the decision had been made anyway and they’d missed it as they slept.

“It’s a shame to wake her but we should get her into bed before the kids get here and mob the place.” She moved towards Kit as if to shake her awake and Daryl put his arm up to stop her.

“Don’t need to wake her.” He assured her and gently shifted his position until he could slip his arm under her knees, without disturbing her. He rose carefully, trying not to take too much weight on his hip but managed not to wake her.

Lisa nodded and lead the way into the bunk room, which consisted of a set of bunk beds and a small single bed on one side, separated by a heavy tarp hanging from the ceiling, from Lisa’s part of the room. Her bed was a big-ish single but it looked comfortable enough and it was clearly freshly made up.

“There are a couple of sleeping bags over in the kids’ side if you need them but I figured you might not mind sharing.” She said with another cheeky grin, as she pulled back the cover and removed Kit’s boots.

Daryl lowered her onto the bed and turned to thank her. She waved it away. “I’ve owed her more than a few over the years.”  She smiled. “There’s a box full of toiletries that you and she might need there and a couple of sets of underwear, tops and pairs of jeans  that we scrounged up for you both to borrow on the shelf there. They won’t be a perfect fit but I’m sure they’ll do at a pinch for now.”

At the door, she pointed out the washrooms across the courtyard and told him that no one expected to see either of them again this afternoon. “Just join us when you’re ready this evening…. I’m sure you won’t miss the smell of Patty cooking up a storm again later.”

“Alright.” Daryl agreed, offering his hand in real thanks. “Good t’ meet a friend of Kit’s.” He said with a smile.

“It’s amazing to meet a boyfriend of hers.” She purred in response and laughed a little, as he shyly withdrew his hand, with a little bashful smile and they both turned to get on with their afternoons.


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is, my weekend is not my own again this week, so I'm not sure if I'll have anything to put up then - I will try though.
> 
> The good news is I tried to write a nice chunky chapter to tide you over, in case I'm not able to put something up at the weekend, so this is the longest chapter I've written for a while. Not sure if length necessarily indicates quality (probably not) but hopefully it'll keep you happy for now - you be the judge.

Looking back at the small bed and its adored contents, Daryl stowed his bow by the door and smiled to finally be alone with her again – even if she was the one who was unconscious this time. Looking around at the collection of clothes and toiletries they’d been gifted he was suddenly very aware of the ragged state of his own clothes and the fact that he hadn’t had anything close to a real wash for a couple of days now.

It wouldn’t usually bother him and she wouldn’t have had the chance either, he thought, as he undid her pants and slipped them off slowly, to minimise disrupting her sleep. He carefully rolled her from side to side to remove her grubby overshirt but left her vest and didn’t attempt to remove her bra. He couldn’t have achieved it without waking her and that was the furthest thing from what he wanted. She looked so peaceful and the simple fact that he hadn’t already woken her, meant Rick was right, she really did need this rest.

She may not look or smell too bad after a couple of days of neglected hygiene but Daryl was pretty sure that he did. He was blind to it himself and Kit hadn’t shown any signs of revulsion but she never did. He’d been sweaty and grubby from the hunt and the run back for the equipment bag, last time he’d been conscious and since then he’d somehow picked up a head injury and bled all over himself. He’d also spent a whole day sleeping in his own filth.

He’d briefly noticed, as he splashed water over himself and swilled out his mouth in the en-suite when he’d woken, that someone had cleaned his face and neck, down to the collar bone. His arms had also been cleaned, probably to mop up his own blood and allow them a clean surface to patch him up and put a line in, if Rick was right and he’d needed blood. Other than that, he was carrying a day’s worth of festering dried sweat and filth. He wanted to climb into that bed and hold Kit as she slept but didn’t want to taint her.

Looking around the little hut, he noticed that Lisa had set up a little water butt above a bucket, that obviously served as a kind of private bathroom for her and her kids. It made sense that a community this large would try to find little ways of taking care of some of their ablutions away from the shared bathroom. In their brief visit to the shared facilities, before lunch, he’d noticed that there was only really one shower, which looked to be a combination of rain water, with the addition of water heated on the stove. This place could definitely benefit from some innovations like Kit’s solar showers. There had been two earth toilets, roughly done but obviously done well and used efficiently. He guessed that the men of the settlement were used to wandering off to find a friendly tree and he guessed that there would be more than a couple of portable, camping toilets or buckets under beds for night times and emergencies.

He shook himself out of that mindset. For now, he tried to stop thinking about resources and innovations and who had what and how it could be used more efficiently. It wasn’t really his strong-suit, whatever smoke Rick tried to blow up his ass. He’d let Kit take the lead with getting this place ship-shape (as she would put it) and he’d try to think about who might want to come and join them. That would be the key to making this place work. It would be the larder of the other communities if they could just run it well enough to sustain it long-term. For that they needed people, numbers enough to keep the animals properly and help them thrive.

He’d worry about that tomorrow. For now, he planned to take Rick’s advice and Lisa’s offer. He planned to spend this afternoon resting and working himself up to his best form. Tonight would be hard, having to be sociable and get to know this community a little better.

He fetched soap, a wash cloth, toothbrush and paste from the little box Lisa had left them. Pouring out some water into the bucket, he stripped off his clothes, after checking that the door was firmly bolted and the curtain at the only window was securely drawn.  Sitting on the end of the small bed, he set about giving himself the most thorough wash he could manage under the circumstances.

Towelling himself down, he selected a pair of clean underwear and finally joined Kit in the narrow bed. Pulling her into his body, he kissed her neck and cheek gently. They shared the pillow and curled up like two spoons in a drawer. Daryl lay there for long minutes, thinking of nothing but the texture of her hip, which he rhythmically caressed as he listened to her slow, steady breathing and the distant merriment of a gaggle of excitable children, arriving for their lunch just a few feet away, on the other side of the wall.

\------------------------

During her sleep, Kit had hardly dreamt at all. There had been a fleeting moment of panic-ridden stress dreaming as she’d felt suddenly weightless and in the power of someone or something other than herself. It had passed quickly, as she’d partially woken to feel the strong, safe arms of Daryl wrapped around her. She was being carried somewhere, her head resting against his broad shoulder and was barely conscious long enough to wonder where, before she drifted off again, safe in the knowledge that he'd look after her.

As she woke this time, she heard the distant scrapes and clattering of plates and cutlery being stacked and stored and laughing children. As the noise abated and the children became more and more distant, until they were gone completely, Kit began to really come around. Her brain engaged again and as she opened her eyes she wondered where she would find herself.

All she could initially see was the bare brick of a roughly whitewashed wall. She didn’t really care about where she was, as she recognised the familiar pattern of breathing behind her and the hand laid, warm and comforting, on her right thigh. Daryl was here. Everything was OK.

The bed seemed comfortable and clean. The room was darkened but the quality of light that was there, told her it was still daylight outside. She guessed she was in Lisa’s bed. She’d briefly been shown around the main buildings when they first arrived. She hadn’t seen Patty and Lionel’s bunker but this seemed much more likely to be Lisa’s place.

She wondered though, why they were still here. She was glad they hadn’t bundled her off, still unconscious, back to Alexandria. She’d hate to leave Lisa here without at least a proper parting hug. She realised she’d probably seemed rather odd to her friend before Daryl arrived and even more so after. She knew Lisa had never seen her with a man before because she’d literally never been with a man before. It was a side of Kit that even Kit had never seen, it must have seemed alien to Lisa too and Kit figured she’d have some explaining and some awkward conversations to come.

For now though, they appeared to be being allowed a rest and a longer one than just a quick nap too. The hand on her leg was touching bare skin and Kit could feel the heat of his own bare skin, against her legs and her back. In any other circumstances she’d have hated to have had someone, messing with her while she was unconscious. But she knew that she’d slept through being stripped only because she’d known, at a completely unconscious level, as well as a conscious one, that she was in Daryl’s hands and she was safe there. She wondered how long she’d been asleep, as she began to carefully turn over, to take in her surroundings and look at him. She wasn’t quite as careful as she’d meant to be though.

“Hey beautiful.” Daryl smiled, as he began to wake up himself.

“Hmmm, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” She purred back as they wrapped their arms around each other and she leant forward to claim a kiss.

“Don’t be.” He replied, returning her kiss and pulling her in for a tighter squeeze.

“Mmmmh, you taste minty.” She commented.

“Complements of Lisa… she left us some stuff to clean up.” He explained. “Hopefully I don’t smell half as bad now as I did before?”

“I like your smell.” Kit replied. “But clean is good too.” She smiled and kissed him again. It briefly crossed her mind that her breath must be pretty horrendous right now but Daryl didn’t show the remotest sign of caring and she knew she wouldn’t if the boot were on the other foot, so she brushed off that worry, as quickly as it had arrived in her head.

“How long have we slept?” She asked.

“Don’t know.” Daryl answered. “I dropped off just after you at lunch… I guess I was out about half an hour or so, we moved in here, just before the kids arrived for their lunch.” He looked over towards the door. “Guess they’re gone now.”

“Only just, they were still around when I woke up.” She looked like she was working something out. “So that’s a couple of hours… that’s good.” She smiled. “Let’s make out.”

Daryl didn’t know why the time was important to that calculation but she was kissing him and reaching around to unhook her bra, so he didn’t really care right now.

\----------------------------------

Much heavy petting later, Kit finally dragged herself out of bed and gave herself a wash in the kids’ room. Daryl brought around some clothes and ‘helped’ her towel herself off and dress, which lead to a little more heavy petting. Eventually, they tentatively broached the outside world and found the communal area deserted. Kit visited the bathroom while Daryl found some mugs and fresh water.

On her return, Kit decided that Daryl needed a massage. It had been two days, since his last and she was determined, so he didn’t argue. He was far from unhappy with the idea of having her magical, healing hands on him again. They talked through everything that had happened yesterday, everything he’d missed before he arrived, everything she’d missed while she was napping; then they talked about the existing deal with Alexandria and traded ideas about how the other communities could help this one grow and thrive. During their talk, Daryl had been none too pleased to find that Rick had been right and she’d insisted on giving blood. He suspected much more than the ‘couple of pints – no biggie’ she claimed. He had to admit though, she didn’t seem any worse for wear, now she’d been well fed and had a real rest. As he buckled against the table and gave himself up to Kit’s tender mercies, he had to concede that she was indeed ‘as strong as an Ox’ as Lisa had claimed.

They were still in the same attitude, with Kit working on Daryl’s shoulder, as Lisa, Shauna and Mike rounded the corner and greeted them, with varying degrees of surprise. Daryl could barely raise his head, let alone an arm, in greeting by that point but Kit leapt forward to hug Lisa again. Finally ready to be a normal human again, now she had Daryl back and had caught up on a little sleep.

Shauna wanted to get a look at Daryl’s wound and get him started on some anti-inflammatories, if necessary. The drugs were all kept in the bunker, so they all made their way there together. Mike was keen to show Daryl around the farmstead, once he’d been examined and the two men were already talking shop on the way. Kit was just curious to see the bunker and interested to meet Shauna properly, she had known the woman’s brother after all and it was odd to see so many of Brad’s traits, still living in this feminine version. She wondered how Lisa coped, with the daily reminder, not just in the children she shared with her dead husband but also in his sister.

Lisa linked arms with Kit and set a slow pace, allowing the others to get a little ahead of them. “Soooo,” She began, as Kit’s heart sank. “Dishy Daryl then?” She laughed at the mortified look on Kit’s face and carried on.

“Not my type but I can certainly see the attraction.” She weedled. “I do like a nice head of hair and broad shoulders are very good for resting on…. And that is a very scrumptious, pert little arse.” She whispered conspiratorially, with dancing eyebrows and a cheeky grin. “Wouldn’t mind a slice of that myself.”

“Oh god, stop it.” Kit laughed finally.

“I’m sorry, I know, I’m terrible.” She replied, not remotely sorry at all. “So, I got the quick and dirty version from Michonne and Tara but they didn’t know what you’d got up to in Garvey and how the hell you just happened across each other, after three years… Tell me all.”

“Yeah OK, I promise but not right now.” Kit indicated that they were less than fifty feet from the others, who were just arriving at the bunker apparently. There was no time for a long story.

Lisa nodded. “OK, rain check. … but I want ALL the details later.” She pulled Kit’s arm to halt her progress and turned serious for a second. “He is the same guy though right? This is the Daryl you told me about?” Kit nodded. Lisa exhaled sharply. “Jesus, what are the fucking chances?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Do you love him?” She asked, out of the blue, deliberately being confrontational, trying to catch a true response.

“Yes.” Kit replied, quiet and shy but strong in her assertion.

“Does he love you?”

“Yes.”

“Well so he should do… not as stupid as he looks then.. lucky bastard.” Lisa smiled, pulling her friend on towards the bunker with a little extra cheer and vigour to hide the tears bubbling in the corner of her eye. She was happier for Kit than she could ever express and hoped this guy Daryl was worthy of her. She wondered if he had any idea just how lucky he was that she loved him back.


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right - I'm back on course now I think. Hopefully there'll be something up this weekend too :)

She had to hand it to Kit, she might not give her heart away often (or ever) but when she finally did, it seemed like the girl had damned good taste. He might have looked as rough as a roofer’s glove, on first inspection but really rather genuinely ‘dishy’ Daryl had since turned out to be a diamond in the rough, if ever there was one.

The leg seemed to be pretty much OK, with no signs of infection and every indication that there had been little or no actual venom in the bite, although Shauna privately let it slip later that it must still be agony. He’d born the examination with barely disguised discomfort, not so much at the pain but at being left to fend for himself with Lisa’s darling sister-in-law. Bless her, she was a bit full on for most people but poor Daryl didn’t look like the type that was used to being mothered to death.

While he fought the good fight, Lisa had shown the others around the bunker. Not Patty and Lionel’s own room of course but the main store and what was left of the equipment and supplies Willy had thought might be necessary if some dumb shit ever decided to push a red button somewhere on the planet.

Bless him too. Lisa couldn’t for the life of her work out what vital use he’d thought six boxes of plastic straws might actually be but they weren’t far from being all that was really left in here. Most of the food had gone within the first year. There was still some equipment but a lot of it was difficult to make out and they’d been stumped as to what they should be using it for, in the absence of original boxes or instructions.

Returning to the patient consultation, in the little awning they’d tacked on to the unfinished bunker entrance, the group re-assembled and Lisa saw Daryl’s whole face change, as Kit settled at his side. Maybe he did know how lucky he was after all.

And then the kids had descended. Well, dog first, barrelling in on the scene and jumping up to be petted by Daryl. The dog was Kit’s, Lisa knew that much from what she’d been told but she wouldn’t have known it based on the evidence before her.

The animal had been commandeered by the kids, as soon as they’d discovered that she had no intention of ripping their heads off. Kit had promised faithfully that she was safe to be around anyone here and the parents had warily watched their kids play with her until it became obvious to everyone that Kit was right. God knows what they’d been up to all afternoon but they were all sopping wet and out of puff when they arrived a few minutes behind the dog.

“We took her to the lake.” Gracie blurted out, even as her cousins tried in horror to warn her against it.

“You WHAT?” Lisa had instantly snapped in response.

Gracie was an innocent of course, incapable of lying and usually incapable of going against her own mother’s rules. Her own children however, without that extra ‘sweet’ chromosome, were more than capable of deceit and lies and doing exactly what they’d been told not to and dragging their much older but easily lead cousin along for the ride. Poor Gracie looked crestfallen, as she realised she’d somehow dumped them all in it but Lisa’s anger had not been aimed at her. She let Shauna claim Gracie, as her ire turned on her own offspring.

“Ginny! Lucas!… I told you, you mustn’t go there without an adult… it’s too dangerous… and you drag poor Gracie and Felix there with you?” She put on her best ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ face and went on. “Anything could have happened… how could you be so stupid and thoughtless.” She knew she was playing on her own children’s weaknesses, exploiting them for her own ends but needs must. Ginny didn’t respond to physical punishment, never had and she had to get her to behave somehow. Lives depended on it because the others hero-worshipped her and would follow her anywhere.

“I’m sorry mama.” They both replied, looking suitably guilty. “We thought it’d be OK, with the dog an’ all…” Ginny added.

“And Gracie’s kind of almost an adult.” Lucas tried to excuse their actions but realising by the set of his mother’s jaw that it wasn’t going to wash he went for unfettered remorse instead. “I’m sorry mama… ain’t no excuse.”

Lisa held Ginny’s eye throughout. It was her she needed to break. Bugger it if her own mother’s amused proclamation, that she’d got her cumuppence for her own childhood behaviour, at last, by being ‘blessed’ with a daughter exactly like herself, wasn’t absolutely on the money. Luckily, Lisa had thirty years of staring contest experience under her belt, which gave her the edge now. Ginny broke first… this time.

“Sorry mama.” She mumbled, with downcast eyes. “We won’t do it again.”

“You’d better bloody not do young lady.” Lisa fumed. “If you’re lucky enough not to get caught by a dead one or kill yourselves on those slippery rocks – you’ll have more serious worries when you get home, if I ever find out you’ve done this again…. And that goes for all of you.” She made her way down the line of her children, making sure both the boys understood the seriousness of her threat, just as clearly as her daughter.

Suitably chastised and put on a restricted radius from the barn and washing up duty for the next two days -the children had shadowed the adults from then on. Lisa and Mike took Kit and Daryl on a short tour of the animal’s quarters and showed them how things worked. Lisa was pleased to see that things were far less hectic and desperate already. Only having had the three extra pairs of hands for a couple of hours, she hadn’t thought it could make such a difference but the main bonus was that everyone else didn’t have to work their arses off at break-neck speed just to allow them to tread water for another day.

All of the jobs would get done today and finally repairs on the farmstead fencing had, not only begun but already come on leaps and bounds. Keeping the pigs where they were put would be a giant improvement on life here, just on its own but Ben and Freddie had been gone all afternoon, working with Ted and his son Boon on the fencing up at the meadow and THAT would be a huge benefit. Getting the cows out in a proper field, where they could roam around without being crowded would be a million times less stressful for them and the humans trying to live cheek-by-jowl alongside them. It would mean having to renovate the shelter up there and milking would become a much longer and harder job for those having to trek up there and back to do it but it would be worth it.

For now, they could take advantage of the one perk of having the cows so close. There were three pregnant or weaning females at the moment and now that there were extra bellies to fill, milking may not be half such a waste as it had been up to now. Mike took Daryl off to look at the fences and inspect the livestock, while Lisa and Kit set about bringing in the ‘girls’ one-by-one to be milked.

As they’d sat, talking through some of the details of the last three years, they’d watched Lisa’s children, chasing after the dog and occasionally interacting with the two men, working on a section of fence, in the distance. Kit had re-discovered the long-ago learned skill of milking, although she had to admit she’d only done it once and had been pretty rubbish at it and finally shared all of the details of how she and Daryl had come to meet up in Garvey.

Lisa had listened, in awe, as she described the attack on the barn, freeing those girls, returning them to their people. She’d listened with interest to the back and forth of how Daryl had come to spend that night in her safe-house. She’d assumed that they’d been at it like rabbits from the moment they’d re-connected but in hindsight, she should have realised that it would take more than even that miracle to crack the ‘tough nut’ that was Kit.

She’d been in a little in awe and rather surprised by Daryl’s own sensitivity to her friend’s nature and at his patience with her. Nursing her through a pretty godawful illness aside, he’d obviously been treading very carefully in those early days. He was so obviously head over heels now, Lisa couldn’t imagine he’d been much less in armoured of Kit from the start. He must have the moral discipline of a saint, to not have tried it on with her at some point… especially with them sharing a bed!!!

Kit had left out some of the details of what was said on their drunken night in the wardrobe but she hadn’t left the episode out completely and had admitted to how difficult it had made things early on in Alexandria, just because they hadn’t addressed that particular elephant head on. She described some of her interactions with Daryl’s family, the gift of the little house that was now theirs, the barbeque, finally talking, getting everything out in the open and the fabulous weirdness of being in a couple for the first time ever.

“But not an acknowledged couple?” Lisa quizzed. “I mean, it was new to his family… seeing you two like that… why the secrecy?”

“It wasn’t really deliberate… well, I suppose it was.” Kit conceded. “We…I… I’ve just never really been… well YOU know… I’ve never been in a relationship before really and he hadn’t either… not one like this… not… well, not any kind of serious thing I suppose… “ She fumbled over her words and Lisa felt bad for asking. She’d had her suspicions about Kit and her puzzling lack of interest in men, women, any kind of relationship at all but she’d never pushed her into talking about it like this before and Lisa wished she hadn’t now.

“You needed time to figure it out for yourselves first?” She put in, to try and put her out of her misery. “I get that. I’m sure they understand it too.” She smiled broadly at Kit, who was nodding gratefully. Her smile continued, with added warmth now, as she glanced back across the yard. The two men, each with one of her children on their shoulders, as Ginny was holding forth in front of them and Gracie petted the dog. She didn’t know what game they were playing but her daughter was clearly in charge.

Lisa was now quite certain that Daryl knew, probably better and in more detail than she did, exactly how lucky he was to have captured Kit’s heart. She was now also quite certain that he had earned and deserved it and that he’d never take it for granted or treat it with less respect than it deserved. He had obviously been hewn from the same unique cloth that Kit was herself. They deserved each other and they made Lisa suddenly quite sad that she might never feel love, even a little like theirs, again herself.


	75. Chapter 75

Mike liked the hill. He liked it a lot. He’d been happy to put his hand up, there wasn’t much to tie him to Alexandria. Some belongings, not much from before though, not much that he actually cared about seeing again or actually needed. He had friends, people he wouldn’t want to say goodbye to forever but that was a luxury anyway these days. Couldn’t guarantee that any of your friends would still be there tomorrow. Those that were, he’d see again… even if he stayed.

Brief conversations with the other men and the couple of women he’d met at the settlement, had told him that this place would be viable. They had all the raw resources they needed, they just needed some infrastructure and more people. Well that was easy. He’d stay. If they wanted him to, if it was an option and no one was going to kick off about it. He’d stay.

Rick seemed amenable to it. Once Daryl had had his nap and was back in the game he’d made it clear that was the way he was thinking too. Not for himself and Kit, more’s the pity but he had too many family members back home for that. He had other names to add into the mix though. Mike hadn’t met all of them but as Daryl called out the couple he did know, Mike had to agree they’d be strong choices and would more than likely be up for it.

Daryl had named a mix; men and women, a couple of small families who might be interested. There were definitely more men than women though and that made Mike pause. It had been so, so long since he’d had a woman in his arms. He wasn’t an animal and it wasn’t all ‘any hole’s a goal’ or anything but he was ready, he was ready to have someone again, not just for a night or when the urge took them but to have someone like Daryl had Kit. He didn’t begrudge the man, he’d been a lone wolf longer than Mike had, he guessed but that woman was really something and they’d found each other. Mike wanted that. A woman with some spark; a nice ass, soft hair and a quick smile. He wasn’t asking much but he wanted it now more than any time since the turn.

It had become a standing joke amongst the men in Alexandria that, with the notable exception of Daryl, they’d all hit on any eligible female within minutes of meeting her these days. Things had gotten quieter after Negan and Alexandria was more comfortable. People had had a minutes to look around, take stock, get itchy. Still, this world could throw something else at them, any time. No time to be fussy really but Mike still was to an extent. He’d had a try at Kit, before he’d realised that her heart was already very much spoken for but she’d been the first likely candidate to cross his path in months. He might have considered Rosita, she was just on the outer edges of his ‘acceptable age’ bracket but that girl was fierce and he’d seen more than one guy crash and burn over her. He liked spirit… but he wasn’t up for getting his balls handed to him on a daily basis.

He was glad he’d already laid some ground work with the only available woman here. Lisa was safely in his age bracket, definitely scoring high on the nice ass, soft hair, quick smile, scale…. And she had spirit in spades. He’d been nothing but a perfect gent throughout but he’d definitely given her some deliberately charming smiles. He’d held her hand a little longer than he needed to when they met and he’d made a point of trying to inject some mildly flirty fun into the tone of every word he’d spoken to her so far. He hoped he wasn’t coming off creepy or desperate. He didn’t think so. She seemed much more open to receiving his advances than Kit had been that day in Alexandria… much more aware… maybe more interested? He hoped so. At least he’d have a better shot with her than any of these other guys, Daryl was considering, if he got a little head start on them.

Daryl was still in pain. Must be. But he was an ‘if it ain’t broke I’ll just carry on walking on it’ kind of guy, so he was just ploughing through it. Once he’d been shown around, they’d looked back at the two women, deep in conversation and Daryl had suggested that they leave them to it and finish up the last barrier fence. It was at least a two man job and Mike had been leaving it for he and Ted to finish, when he returned with the younger men. Daryl seemed up for it though and if they got it done now, it was one less job on the list and a much better chance of not having to chase a pig around the yard again, for the third time today.

The kids came over to ‘help’, just as they were finishing up and were actually some use in the clean up. Mike liked the boys, they were both sweethearts and overjoyed to have more men around, they almost fell over themselves in their haste to jump on his and Daryl’s shoulders when they’d offered. Mike had made sure to take the bigger boy, Lucas, as Daryl could do without the extra weight but he’d seemed happy to play donkey for Felix and listen to Ginny, bossing them around and setting rules for them. Mike knew that Daryl and Kit staying here long term wouldn’t be on the cards but he figured they’d be regular visitors and that thought cheered him. He liked Daryl.

Ginny was just like her mother. Maybe not in looks but she was a real little firecracker and Mike liked her too. You couldn’t not like Gracie, of course and she was by far the most physically useful of the children, as she was technically a teenager, taller and stronger than her cousins, with none of their guile and with a willingness to help and follow instructions.

Mike liked all the kids and all the adults he’d met. Yeah, this place would be fine. He could live here. He’d already volunteered to do so for now and he was ready to declare himself as Daryl’s first acquisition for the community. He just hoped he could make an impression on Lisa. That really would be the rather attractive icing on an already pretty appealing cake.

______________

 

The rest of the evening went better than either Kit or Daryl had expected. They actually felt comfortable here. Kit had Lisa and the kids as a ‘known’ gateway to the rest of the community. Daryl had a bunch of guys he knew from home and this place definitely had the thrown-together, bottom-of-the-pile, underprivileged no-hopers helping each other survive the shitty day-to-day vibe, that he recognised from his previous life.

The closeness of the forest all around them, the knowledge that this hill was teeming with life and that death… the dead… were far away and unlikely to encroach. All of it made this place feel OK. Mixing with the rest of the group was a slow introduction, as people filtered in from here and there, to eat together. Everyone passed through the kitchen area at some point and Kit and Daryl stayed put there all evening, so that they had a chance to meet everyone but didn’t have to force interactions by ‘doing the rounds’. Some decisions were made around the table, about watches and work schedules for the morning but mostly it was getting-to-know-you stuff from everybody.

Ben and Freddie had made fast friends with Boon during the afternoon. The boy was a little younger than them, they were both in their early twenties but Boon was around seventeen or eighteen. The three of them had already decided that they’d bunk down in the barn’s hay loft tonight and that they might as well take watches, as they’d be in the best spot to do so anyway. There wasn’t usually much call for a night watch, other than someone sleeping near the main fences just to be sure none of the animals staged a ‘great escape’ in the night but with all the activity today they all figured it was a sensible idea.  Lisa and Alice would be up first thing for milking and feeding anyway, so the guys could get some ‘catch up’ shuteye from then.

Although Daryl and Kit both tried to offer their aid on various projects for tomorrow, everyone seemed agreed that they should both stay away from the ‘heavy lifting’ until they were fully rested. It was clear that, Daryl especially, had over done it already this afternoon and no one wanted to have to explain to Alexandria why their guy was going back to them in worse shape than he’d been when he arrived.

Once dinner was over, the kids were sent off to their beds and Shauna took charge of making sure they stayed there, after checking on Daryl and giving him his next dose of anti-inflamatories.  The remaining adults drifted in and out but Patty and Lionel retired early, the dog went off to spend her evening with the boys on lookout in the hay loft and conversation around the table got quieter and more intimate.

“I’ll tell you what you could do…and it would be a massive help?” Lisa offered, seeing their frustration after yet another knock-back. “If you don’t mind, it’s been a while since we did a proper wash around here…. I mean, the bedding and clothes we left out for you were clean but that’s because they were in storage… we haven’t actually had a wash day of clothes for ages.” She looked from one to the other and read their reticence. “I mean, I know it’s not glamorous or anything but it would be bloody useful… everyone does their own smalls as they go along of course, vests and so on. Most of the kids’ clothes are easy enough to manage in a bucket but sheets, jeans, over shirts. You wouldn’t have to do every stitch, just one clean set for each person would be fucking amazing at this point.”

They both nodded, of course, if that was all they were going to be allowed to contribute then they’d do it. Alice was overjoyed with the news that they were up for it and promised to help gather the washing together and find the pull-cart for them in the morning, before toddling off to her own bed.

Daryl and Kit perked up considerably when Lisa explained that the best spot for laundry day on this scale would be the lake. Without her knowing it, just the thought of a lake was enough to sweeten the deal for both of them but it was a good trek away. Apparently the place was completely secluded and Lisa intimated that she expected that the job would take them all day, as they’d have to wait for the laundry to dry. They’d have plenty of free time to ‘explore’ she’d promised, with a fidgety eyebrow.

As Daryl joined Ted and Mike, to talk over their final plans for works on the shelter up at the meadow, Lisa drew Kit away to her bunk room with the promise of a nice surprise.

“Ah, here they are.” She proclaimed triumphantly, pulling a box out of a suitcase under her bed. “Still sealed and everything… Brad and I had high hopes for getting back on track on that holiday… before the fucking world fell apart.”

Kit looked closer. It was a giant box of two hundred and eighty eight condoms. “Jesus Christ Lisa.” She hissed, embarrassed and nervously looking towards the door.

“I know!!!” Lisa laughed. “I got a great Groupon deal.” She shook her head. “Shame we never even got as far as cracking the seal but at least you’ll get some use out of it.” She pierced the seal with her thumb nail and opened the box. “Wash day’s looking pretty attractive now eh!” She teased.

“We’re… we can’t… I’m still.” Lisa looked incredulous. “I’m on my period… I’m starting to slow but I’ll still be bleeding tomorrow.” Kit explained.

“Oh, right. Well, I suppose I’d appreciate it if you put a towel down if you’re going to have a shag in my bed then but a lake’s the ideal spot for a nice dirty ‘time of the month’ fuck if you ask me.” Lisa replied matter-of-factly. “Up to you but I for one am always horny as anything when I’m on… I definitely would.” And with that, she took a few condoms from the top of the box, pocketed them and made her way to the door, practically skipping, as she left Kit in mild shock.

“Nighty night Kitty cat.” She called as she walked out. “Good night Daryl.” She smiled in passing, as they crossed paths just outside the entrance.


	76. Chapter 76

Kit had never even considered sex during her period. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She’d considered it a lot since Daryl had arrived here, awake and well and just as bloody sexy as always but she’d just assumed that it wasn’t on the cards until she’d finished. Lisa had shocked her a little with her bluntness, Kit wasn’t used to having her sexuality referenced so brazenly and in such coarse language but she’d certainly opened her eyes to the possibilities too.

She didn’t want to ‘shag’ in Lisa’s bed but as she and Daryl had settled down to some more comfy cuddling, before falling asleep again in each other’s arms, Kit was certainly starting to rethink her squeamishness with regard to tomorrow’s trip to the lake. She didn’t mention her plans to Daryl, even as he pressed lulling kisses along her shoulders and neck, massaging gentle circles into the yielding flesh of her breasts. Kit was definitely up for it but she didn’t want to burden him with the idea. She didn’t want to ‘trick’ him but maybe he just didn’t need to even know she was still bleeding a little. He’d only worry about hurting her, as always, more concerned for her well being than his own pleasure.

The next morning had brought a renewed energy for them both. A good night’s sleep had Kit waking up feeling truly ready for the day ahead. By the feel of the raging erection, pressing against her arse, Daryl was ready for the day she had planned for him too. She lay there, quietly enjoying the sensation as the light level increased around them, as kids were fed and sent off to collect eggs and fetch laundry in the communal room beyond their door.

She heard Lisa’s voice, reminding her of the plans for their day ahead; as if she needed it with Daryl’s insistent protrusion, now beginning to recede, as he finally began to wake up.

“Morning sweetheart.” She crooned with a smile, as she shifted to face him.

He laughed at the endearment, he was more familiar with using for her, than hearing for himself. “Mornin’ beautiful.” He replied, leaning forward to kiss her deeply.

Right then, Kit wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the morning in this bed. She wanted to work her way slowly down Daryl’s body, to take his rapidly softening manhood in hand and breathe life back into it. She wanted to hear him moan, with unbearable pleasure and taste the evidence as she swallowed it down.

That would be a problem, if she hoped to convince him to get to work on her at the lake though. So she shelved the desperate urge and hoped that his desperate urges would be that bit more rampent by then, as a result. Ravaging his mouth would have to be enough for now.

Minutes later and with a joyful laugh, she broke the kiss and rolled over him to escape from the narrow bed. It was clear that Alice and Patty were starting to collect together their washing for the day and they had no more leisure for lust. They washed and dressed and presented themselves at the kitchen table, where the ladies were sorting washing into piles and loading up a small hand-cart by the table. Lisa hadn’t been kidding, this was going to be a hell of a job.

“Good morning.” Alice called in a sing-song voice, as she looked up to greet them.

“I’m so sorry.” Patty apologised, wringing her hands a little. “I think everyone got a little excited about a wash… there’s far too much for you to manage here.”

“Oh nonsense.” Alice countered. “It’s a lot but it’s doable.” She turned back towards Daryl and Kit. “We’ll pack the cart in priority order. Just do what you can in the time today. If there’s much left…. Maybe we can do another wash tomorrow morning or something.” She smiled, using the royal ‘we’ presumably.

Patty wasn’t wrong, there was a lot of washing on the cart already and more piled up waiting to go on but Kit wasn’t phased. The more they had to do, the more acceptable it was for them to spend the whole day at the lake. “Sounds like a plan.” She replied to Alice, while giving Daryl’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Sorry I’m late.” Lisa offered, barreling into the kitchen two minutes later, as the last loads were tied up for ease of carrying. “I got… um…held up.” She finished with an inexplicable little smile briefly crossing her lips, as she dumped a small pile of overalls on the heap and helped Daryl manoeuvre the cart onto the grass.

“Oh Lisa, would you help Kit find everything she needs for these two to have a packed lunch out at the lake… Alice and I were hoping Daryl would help us move the big barrel in the store room somewhere a bit less in the way.” She explained, looking pleadingly at the ‘young man’ in question.

As she watched Daryl uncertainly pulled away by the two older women, Kit smiled with amusement at his obvious discomfort and was glad of the opportunity to speak to Lisa in private. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Lisa had pocketed a handful of the condoms last night and now she was almost certain she knew why.

“Held up?” She asked, more than happy to have the boot on the other foot and now it being her that could quiz Lisa.

Lisa didn’t seem very uncomfortable about it though. “Mmmmm.” She murmered with a very naughty and completely unrepentant smile. 

“Mike I presume?” Kit asked, knowing the answer. She’d already decided last night, it must be Mike. He was Lisa’s ‘type’. Tall and slim, full head of hair, flirty and funny when he wanted to be. If Lisa was planning to seduce anyone, she would definitely go for Mike and Kit suspected she wouldn't encounter much resistance.

“Well I’m not going to cradle snatch one of your little Alexandrian boys am I?” She retorted with a girlish giggle. “Or shit in my own back yard.” She added. “And Daryl’s taken, soooo....” She grinned. 

Kit didn’t really know where to go from here, she’d never started one of these conversations before and had barely even taken part in one. She didn’t need to worry. Apparently Lisa didn’t need prompting and she was more than happy to share.

“Ugh, Kit it’s so nice… I can’t tell you… I mean it’s been years since I got my poor little cunt stretched like that.” Lisa noticed Kit’s wince at the word and apologised. “I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s really been years… you know me and Brad weren’t in the best place but we hadn’t… well, anyway, it wasn’t just three years, it was more like four.” She sighed happily as she cut up a block of cheese for the lunch bag. She did seem more relaxed.

“I know you’ll probably think I’m a complete slag, fucking a guy I met less than twenty-four hours ago but he’s a nice guy I think and I think he might want to stay…. My kids all seem to like him, which is a minor miracle… and he really knows what he’s doing with…. Well you know.” She made a general hand gesture, encapsulating her whole upper body and Kit got the general idea.

He was a good shag and he’d been nice to her. She’d spent a long time on her own and she wanted a man in her bed again. Kit knew Lisa long before she met Brad. Lisa wasn’t a slag but she did like to be loved, held, kissed, shagged. She liked to be coupled up and she hadn’t had that, not for a long time. A month ago Kit would have struggled to understand but having now been ‘coupled up’ herself for a few days, she really didn’t want to face the world alone again, without Daryl. In her case, she very specifically couldn’t face it without Daryl but for Lisa, who had loved before Brad and would no doubt love again after him, she understood that Mike fit the bill for her.

“He didn’t last very long last night.” Lisa continued. “Barely got it in me before he blew his load but it was a nice feeling… that closeness… that fullness… well…  YOU’LL know.” She shoved Kit’s shoulder and poured drinking water into a thermos. “He made up for it this morning though.” She laughed conspiratorially. “A good ten minutes… if that tree could talk.”

Kit was happy for Lisa. Mike was a nice guy. From what Daryl had told her it did sound like he wanted to stay and Kit got the feeling that he was for ‘coupling up’ too. She was happy for them both but she really didn’t want to hear any more detail about what they’d got up to in the woods last night, or this morning and she was happier than words could express when Patty and Alice interrupted further conversation, closely followed by Daryl.  

Only the children could be spared from their duties to show Kit and Daryl the way to the lake. Everyone else was engaged in the final preparations for moving the cattle from here to the meadow tomorrow, or in completing the work on the new fencing and shelter up at the meadow itself. It really was amazing how much the place had come on already, just with three strong pairs of extra hands and a little improved morale. The next phase would be supplies and infrastructure for the human inhabitants, so that when Daryl presented his list and the feelers were put out to the other communities, there would be something to actually offer them.

Ginny was held back, to help with the livestock and presumably pay further penance for misbehaving yesterday but the rest of the kids and the dog lead Kit and Daryl, who pulled the cart between them. The two eldest kids also took a bundle each, which helped enormously and Kit often turned around to see little Felix pushing the cart to help on rougher ground. They were good kids.

Felix had been three last time she’d seen him. He wouldn’t remember that at all but he’d obviously known who she was yesterday. Lisa and the older kids must have talked about her, maybe shown him pictures. She’d hoped they’d all survived, all these years she’d hoped but without much real faith in the actual likelihood of it. But here they were… and still good kids.

Their first sight of ‘the lake’ was something of a disappointment. Without meaning to, both Kit and Daryl had had visions of the vast body of water near their camp in Georgia. This lake was little more than a pond really. It was just a small exposed cut-out in the hill where water had collected in the rocky basin. It did have a small waterfall on the sharp hillside and it was clean and clear. Maybe eighty square foot, all told, there was a single large flat stone protruding above the surface, near the centre and various points all around that looked good for getting in and out.

The kids showed them where an old bath tub and two old plastic water drums had been left for use as soaking and agitating vessels, with an old scrubbing board and brushes resting right there in the bath tub. Daryl lost no time in collecting the kindling that the kids had been collecting along their way and getting a fire going in the pit that had obviously been built for the purpose. Filling the large pan at a small inlet nearby, he and Kit struggled with it back to the fire and managed to set it up on the stand that someone had cleverly erected for that purpose too. All the while, the kids were back and forth with much smaller plastic buckets, filling the bottom third of each of the barrels.

“Thanks kids.” Kit smiled. “You’d better run along back now. They’ll need you to help with the animals while everyone’s up at the meadow.”

“Will you be alright on your own?” Felix asked and Kit’s heart almost melted to hear his genuine concern. The lake was the edge of his universe, poor thing and he was worried to leave them here on their own. Kit also saw his worried looks back at the path they’d just come on. He’d come here yesterday with both of his older siblings and Gracie, as well as the dog. He’d been fine on the way, with two strapping adults but she now saw that he was scared to go back.

Kit was just about to open her mouth to say that she’d walk the children back within sight of the farmstead, when Daryl piped up with a better idea.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout us boy.” He replied. “It’s them dead’uns you should be frettin’ for, they come too near me an’ Kit.” He brandished his crossbow and certainly must look pretty fierce to a six year old, even one that had been riding him like a donkey only yesterday. Felix looked in awe for a second and then smiled broadly.

“I’ll tell you what though… “ Daryl continued. “I think me an’ Kit’d feel a lot happier if we knew she was safe with you.” He nodded towards the dog. “She likes runnin’ around too much to be happy out here all day, she’d only get bored with us… You mind if she tags along with you back home?”

Kit thought maybe Lucas had an inkling what Daryl’s game was but all of the kids beamed happily at the idea. “She could be useful with the animals too I think.” Kit added. “Would you mind?”

Kit wasn’t entirely sure how she’d communicated the intention to the dog. Maybe she’d just always intended to go back with the kids anyway but it certainly wasn’t difficult. Kit had loved to see her getting to really be a dog here. She'd enjoyed the careful attentions of the adults back in Alexandria but with the kids she could really play. It was lovely to see. She and the kids trotted off towards the farmstead and Kit turned back to Daryl. An unreadable smile curling her lips.

“Well Mr. Dixon.” She purred, wrapping her arms around him. “We appear to be alone.”


	77. Chapter 77

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been another wait. Hopefully it's worth it now I've finally had time to finish this chapter. The next one's well under way too, so should be good for this weekend.

Finally.

Daryl had dreamt of this (literally). Time alone. No pesky jobs or errands to run. Just him and Kit, all fucking day. Heaven.

The last time they’d been alone, truly, privately alone, for any length of time had been the hunting trip and that hadn’t ended well. But this time they’d been promised no swimming snakes (that anyone had ever seen or heard of in these parts), no interruptions from the community, who were busy with their own shit and no chance of Walkers. The hill on this side was too steep and densely wooded for anyone but the most crazy or lost of people and Walkers just didn’t have that kind of persistence. If they were going to climb a hill, it was going to be for some obvious, visible, objective.

The kids had pointed out the rough but serviceable ‘early warning system’ from the only likely path a Walker might take, if it’d managed to meander past a farmyard full of cows without noticing. It was just noisy stuff, strung up between trees, standard issue, rough and ready but it’d do. Daryl could hear a pin drop at fifty paces and he was pretty sure Kit’s hearing wasn’t much worse. They’d be fine.

They’d also be alone…. For hours … Finally!

She’d put the breaks on their little celebration a bit earlier than he’d hoped. He guessed he knew why. Although it wasn’t exactly the kind of task they were used to, he figured they did have a job to do and it made sense to do as much as they could, as quickly as possible. Not just to avoid the hardest work during the hottest part of the day but also, so they could spend that hottest part of the day, hopefully making it a little ‘hotter’ in a shaded corner of the lake somewhere.

Daryl couldn’t wait to get his hands on her soft curves underwater again. If the bath they’d shared in Alexandria, the first time they made love, had reminded him of his frustrated desires three years earlier; then this would surely be the fantasy he’d played over in his head a thousand times, finally realised.

He was going to have her in his arms, fresh from the water and this time he’d get the chance to do it right, to kiss those sweet lips and touch that slick, silky skin. No doubt he’d have the chance to do more than that. Probably not MUCH more, she was still on her time of the month and all but still. Maybe if he did a really shitty, slow assed job of scrubbing stains out of those overalls, he’d get to bring her back tomorrow. Maybe by then there’d be more than heavy petting on the cards.

Between them they filled drums, set the worst of the washing to soak and got to scrubbing the easier pieces by the tub. Daryl daren’t look up most of the time, it was like she was doing it on purpose or something. He’d never have thought that a woman scrubbing a pair of pants could be remotely sexy but that’s exactly what she was. Something about the rhythmic movement and those gorgeous, barely contained, swaying breasts, like some kind of hypnotists pendulum lulling him into a horny assed waking coma.

And then she made it a million times better and worse, all at the same time, when she actually took off her shirt and pants. ‘Chafing’, she claimed, although Daryl strongly suspected that she was actually trying to kill him with this sweet torture. She was right though, as usual, the mixture of splashing water, soaking through their clothes, the hot sun and the repetitive movement, was a recipe for all kinds of friction burns and blisters if they weren’t careful. It made things maddeningly difficult for his rapidly stiffening hard-on but she was right. He stripped off down to his boxers too and took comfort in the fact that she actually stopped what she was doing and obviously enjoyed the show as he did so. Served her right if he was getting her hot under the collar for a change.

Two easy rounds of washing later, it was finally time for the worst part of the job. With half their original load already hanging up to dry, they made a start on the worst stained garments. Kit did the lion’s share of the scrubbing while Daryl stoked up the fire again and refilled the pot for the last round of soaking and agitating of the day.

They’d already decided that there wasn’t enough drying space for everything. The first couple of loads had been the lightly soiled items. Just bedding, towels and a few tops mostly. All the worst stained items were in this big middle load. Things like overalls and jeans that people had been wearing for weeks without any real attempt at washing them. Once that was done then it was literally just another couple of lines worth of lightly soiled stuff that wasn’t desperate.

While Kit made short work of several of the worst pieces, Daryl pre-soaked and agitated the last batch before being joined by Kit to empty the hot water into the drums. They both gave the makeshift peggy tubs a good stir before both returning to finish up the scrubbing together.

As he’d been working though, fetching water, sorting and soaking and agitating, Daryl had barely been able to tear his attention away from Kit. She was kneeling on his side of the tub and he had a clear view of her back from the tubs as he worked. The bra was hers but the panties sure weren’t, they were cut a little higher in the leg than her own, laced topped pairs and the coverage over her butt was nowhere near as full as usual. Daryl couldn’t believe how much he wanted her. He’d never been like this in his life before. Suddenly he was a rampant, hormone fuelled, sex crazed, teenager apparently. When the fuck had that happened?

As their pile dwindled to the last couple of pieces, Daryl insisted that Kit should go ahead and make a start on their chill out time. They’d agreed to do as much as they could this morning, get as much as possible hung up to dry and then take a good couple of hours off for relaxation. Even wearing the gloves (which they didn’t always because it was so hot and they were so slippery with sweat anyway inside) their hands were already suffering from all the hard work. Just leaning over the tub and the repetitive motion of the scrubbing was hard enough on bodies that weren’t used to it.

Daryl hadn’t really expected it to be such hard work but it really was. He’d had to get up and do all the walking around jobs because his hip needed to stretch but Kit hadn’t really had a break from the repetitiveness of the workout at all. He’d taken a leaf out of her book and brooked no opposition with his tone, as he’d insisted that she go ahead without him. He’d promised that he fully intended to follow on behind soon.

The last couple of pieces were pretty easy. They’d been soaking for a long time by then and the dirt practically fell off them. One last rinse and he’d wrung out the bulk of the water and hung them up to dry. He watched the swimmer, taking an exploratory turn around the lake, in the distance as he did so.

It took him a moment to register… he hadn’t actually seen her enter the water, hadn’t realised she’d removed her bra before getting in but now he realised that she quite obviously had. Little Daryl made his feelings about that known, as he came to life again in big Daryl’s shorts. Holy shit he hoped she was up for a bit more than kisses and fumbling hands on her breasts. He didn’t want to be a selfish bastard, while the contents of her own panties were off-limits and insist on a blow job or anything but if he was honest, that was exactly what he was hoping for.

She’d settled in a spot near the edge, by the time he was done hanging out and had stirred both barrels one more time for luck. He approached quietly, from behind. She was only a few feet away from the edge and he’d assumed she was swimming in deep water, as she’d been wafting her arms around slowly. On closer inspection he saw that she was actually sitting in knee deep water. He waded in as gently as he could, not wanting to disturb the water and ruin her peace until he could really, really ruin it completely.

“Are you coming to play?” She asked, turning her head towards him as he approached from the side. She reached her hand up for his and he took it, reaching across to grab the other hand too, he pulled her up to standing. As close as they could have managed to a recreation of that moment they’d shared, long ago, on another summer’s day, at another lake, in another state, in another world.

She laughed as she crashed into his chest and he immediately did what he hadn’t thought quickly or clearly enough, or indeed would ever have dared, to do three years earlier. His kiss was deep and held such desire, Kit couldn’t have misread his intentions if she’d tried. Daryl wasn’t here to play. Daryl was very much in the mood for some serious loving.

He ran his hands over her smooth glistening skin, one hand going north, to support her neck as he pressed his body into hers and bent over her to ravage her mouth. The other hand went south, with every intention of slipping under the waist band of her borrowed panties, to take a generous handful of her gorgeous ass. Kit had the opportunity to take a gasping breath, as Daryl pulled back a little in shock. His hand wasn’t slipping under any waist band, there was no waist band, she was naked.

“Thought I’d save us both some time.” She smiled, “Glad you didn’t make me drop this though.”

She raised her hand to his line of sight and Daryl growled unconsciously at its contents, as she opened her palm to reveal it. The bulge in his boxers was now pushing insistently against Kit’s pubic bone and he allowed her mouth to remain unmolested again until she’d brought her hand to her teeth and torn the condom packet open. Reconnecting with her lips he then allowed her a little space between their bodies, in order to drop his boxers and ‘suit up’ little Daryl. Then she was allowed no space and no freedom whatsoever.

The next half hour or so was a blur of passion and fulfilled fantasy for Daryl. He didn’t stop to question a thing, responding only to his own urgent needs, her insistent noises and caressing hands, encouraging him on. Her nails digging into his ass cheeks, pulling him with all her might, deeper into her centre. The words she managed to utter, between unintelligible nonsense, gasps of pleasure and orgasmic screams, were of the “harder,” “deeper,” “Oh my god Daryl,” “Right there – more, more, more” variety. He liked those a lot.

For Kit this was a true victory celebration. She hadn’t had to lie, hadn’t had to trick him and hadn’t had to convince him that it was OK to have sex with her while she was still bleeding a little. She’d just wound him up tight, set him off and watched him go. And ‘go’ he most assuredly did. Anyone else would look at the scene and see a big strong man brutally laying into her; fucking her, quite literally, senseless.

Kit didn’t feel that. She felt the deep hard thrusts, the crash of his hips against her, his balls slapping against her arse. She felt the tsunami they were causing in the shallow water around them, as he'd laid her down and set a punishing rhythm and the rough use of her, still inexperienced, vagina. But that was all just physical. Mostly she felt the deep desire she had for the man on top of her, inside her, owning her pleasure and she felt the unquestionable certainty of his desire and passion for her. With every thrust she felt aching love surging through her own body and radiating from his. In every searing kiss and squeezed breast, she felt his desperation for her and the relief of finally having her again.

After his roar of orgasm and the insensible crescendo of a climax of several of hers, they both lay there in the shallows, utterly spent. Daryl had no energy, even to pull his softening cock out of her body or roll off of her. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry either. Legs and arms splayed under him. He’d collapsed on top of her but slightly on an angle to one side, so she could breathe, or more accurately ‘pant’, as he did in her ear. They lay there, still connected, still shuddering with aftershocks, exhausted and happier, in the afterglow, than either of them had ever been in their lives before.

As thoughts and sensation began to return to each of them, Daryl wondered if anyone else in the world had ever enjoyed sex as much as he and he was pretty sure Kit too, just had. He’d honestly thought he might be on the point of blacking out as he’d come. He could still feel her body encasing his dick and it felt like a full body hug. Jesus fucking Christ he loved her. He’d never love anyone else. Certainly never put his dick near anyone else. What a waste of damned time that would be now. He thought back on the comparatively tame, disappointing sex he’d had in his previous life and had to laugh at the idea of even trying with another woman.

Kit was recovering from the sheer physical pounding she’d endured and to her surprise, thoroughly enjoyed. She’d never liked the word. Would never have used it for what she and Daryl shared, which would always be more accurately described as making love, as far as she was concerned. But it turned out Kit could take a pretty rough fucking and Daryl could dish one out and that might have to be a big part of their love making from now on, because Kit wasn’t sure she could live without a regular portion of that, now she’d had it.

She rolled her head over towards him and saw the blissed out expression on his barely conscious face. She let out an exhausted, sighing laugh, he managed a similar response and they just about found the strength to get into a more comfortable position, as they waited for their legs to work again.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late. Only just got rid of my house guests :)  
> I am going to wrap this up over the next few chapters I think. If anyone has any comments or changes they'd like to suggest for improvements to the original ending, do feel free to pass them on. Maybe make them on the original story though, to prevent anyone accidentally reading any 'spoilers'.  
> Thanks in advance for any ideas/ comments and thanks, as always, for reading ;)

The kids arrived just as Kit and Daryl were starting to fold up the last load of barely dried washing. Considering they’d cracked out those first three batches of washing and drying in just three hours or so this morning, it would have been pretty embarrassing if the kids had arrived just half an hour earlier and they’d have found that last batch, still slightly damp to the touch.

Of course, Kit smiled to herself, if the kids had turned up half an hour earlier, they’d have had a little more than that to deal with. They’d also have caught she and Daryl enjoying the closing stages of a long, slow, comfortable screw on the rock in the middle of the lake. Their last ‘session’ of the day, before they waded, hand in hand, back to their clothes and slowly, begrudgingly, put them back on.

Aside from the truly monumental amount of washing they’d had to do, Kit could honestly say that this had been the best day of her life so far. She’d felt so free and so surprisingly comfortable – considering she’d spent the second half of it stark naked in the great outdoors. It had felt like a honeymoon. Hours of discovery, both of the man she loved and of herself. It hadn’t just been physical or sexual. In between their rampant lovemaking they’d laid on the grass or the rocks or floated in the water, talking, sharing long forgotten stories. Recounting funny episodes, childhood adventures, heartaches and missed people from their previous lives.

She’d loved every second of it and wouldn’t have changed a thing. Her only regret was that it had to end. The kids were all consuming though. Full of questions and stories of their own. Filling Kit and Daryl in on everything that had happened while they were here doing boring washing. As the kids excitedly helped to fill the hand-cart, Kit caught Daryl’s eye and they shared a quiet smile. The journey home was full of childish chatter and the two adults, occasionally brushing each other’s arms ‘accidentally’, as they walked side by side, pulling the cart.

Daryl rolled his much loosened shoulder, as the farmstead came into view and he saw Patty, Lionel and Alice coming towards them to help them carry the load these last few yards. He couldn’t really remember what his shoulder had even been like before this last week. It felt like his life had started around the time he’d met up with Kit again and any hurts or woes he’d carried before seemed all but gone. Fuzzy memories of shitty times.

She’d really gone to town on his back this time. They’d staggered hand-in-hand back, from the shallows of the lake, laughing at the state of themselves, to their little spot on the grass and Kit had broken out the lunch Patty had insisted they bring. It had been no surprise that they were both ravenously hungry after their endless washing and truly epic ‘session’ in the shallows. It had been a big lunch but they’d eaten every last morsel and Daryl still felt himself eyeing the treeline, wondering if he could bag a quick squirrel or two.

Eventually, the sheer volume of food caught up with the speed with which they’d consumed it and they finally felt full. They’d lain around like a pair of bloated big cats for a while. Chatting off and on, holding hands. Mostly just calm and happy and without a care in the world.

She’d rolled him over, as he started to dose and got to work. Slowly and gently at first, building to a deep, hard, effective pressure in time. All he could think about was the constructive pain, reaching right through the old, ruined tissues, tearing up those internal scars and making his body new again. His own again.

Then, as the massage became lighter, slower, less about ‘work’ and more about sensual caressing, relaxation and pleasure; all he could feel, beyond his own bliss, was the light wisp of something brushing softly and rhythmically on his butt cheek, in time with her strokes on his back. The second he remembered that she was naked back there and that the wisp of body heat and soft hair on his butt, was more than likely her pubic hair, as she straddled his back, was the second Daryl stopped thinking about the massage all together.

They’d made love on the grass for an hour at least. He’d flipped her over and massaged every inch of her body with his mouth and tongue. Well, most of it. She was still a little precious about him going near the ‘honey pot’. Which was a shame because he was pretty desperate for her tenderest flesh. He respected her wishes though and only touched her vagina with his dick and even then, only after she’d helped him to ‘full mast’ and slipped another condom on, with a little extra oral stimulation of her own. He’d have asked where she’d got them from if he’d cared. For that moment, all he’d needed to know was that she had a handful and he intended to use as many of them this afternoon as she (and his dick) could handle.

He’d been much more gentle with her on the grass than he had been in the water. He hadn’t felt too guilty about taking her so roughly before, as she’d made it pretty clear that it was what she wanted and she’d definitely been having a damned good time. He had wanted to pull it back a little on dry land though. He was hoping his body would cooperate this afternoon and allow at least one more go around after this, so he didn’t want that scuppered by hurting her, even slightly and making her too ‘sore’ for more later. There didn’t seem to be much chance of that. If it was remotely possible, she seemed ‘wetter’ now than she had been under water. Definitely well lubricated anyway and showing zero signs of discomfort from beginning to end.

After ‘the main event’ Daryl had found himself receiving the same treatment he’d been dishing out earlier. He lay there, basking in the full sun and enjoying the hell out of every kiss, lick, nibble and suck she delivered, across the length and breadth of his own body.

After a little recovery time, they’d checked the drying clothes and found most of them almost there. Kit folded those that were well and truly dry, as Daryl shifted the others and consolidated them onto just a couple of lines. They both stirred the peggy tubs one last time but weren’t ready to go back to work just yet. It was still too hot for that. They strolled hand in hand back to the lake and swam a circuit to cool off before spending some time sitting, cuddled up in the shallows again.

Daryl had decided that Kit was in greater need of a massage now than he had been at all today, so he’d pulled her over to rest in front of him and pressed his strong hands and nimble fingers into her own knots and aching muscles. The noises of appreciation she let out, weren’t far away from those she moaned in his ear whenever they made love and that was fucking hot. He hadn’t been sure that her ear lobes and throat could take much of a massage from his hands, so he’d switched them out for his lips and tongue, as they entered the ‘relaxation’ portion of her therapy.

He’d felt the start of some life in his overused dick, while they sat in the water but he knew he wasn’t ready for much just yet. Not without help at least and he didn’t want to ask her to do that again so soon. He knew she would, without hesitation but he wouldn’t need the help if he left it a little longer and he’d prefer it that way. He had a little packet stashed in the neck of the knife sheath he was carrying, slung over his shoulder. It was the only thing he’d ‘worn’ since she’d stripped off his boxers three hours previously and it was the only thing he intended to wear for the rest of their afternoon together.

They’d been exploring the rocks around the sheer rock face, where the trickling stream of a waterfall fell, when Daryl had really felt ready to take on the world again. A little playful push and pull under the barely pounding stream of water and Daryl had pushed her against the rock wall and made a start on her mouth and neck, as he reached for the packet, tore it open and put it on himself for a change.

Kit had let out a dirty growl of encouragement as he’d backed off just long enough to pull her legs out from under her, forcing her to cling to his neck and hooked them over his arms as he found just the right height. He’d pressed into her, against the wall and felt her give herself up when he reached his limit. It was rougher than the grass, not as rough as the shallows. Still. A pretty hard, crashing passionate session.

She took it well, considering she was literally finding herself slammed – stuck between a rock and a very hard place. The words, between incomprehensible gibberish and orgasmic cries, were still of the “Harder,” “Faster,” “Oh, fuck me Daryl,” “God I fucking love you” variety though, so he kept up the pace and enjoyed the crap out of it himself.

They’d laughed about their exploits, as they’d scrubbed that last load of washing. Reaching over the tub to swat each other playfully or steal a kiss as they did so. Kit couldn’t seem to miss an opportunity to pinch his butt or tweak a nipple, whenever she got the chance. He had to admit he’d done his own fair share of butt slapping and nipple tweaking himself. That last load had been a half assed job if ever there was one. The only thing they’d done right was make damned sure that load got the best spot in the sun for drying. It would need it. By the time they finished up and made their way back to the lake for more R and R they knew they’d only have an hour or two of solitude before they had company there, in their own little personal paradise.

Now, as he approached the farmstead and his thoughts turned to mundane things like, what the hell everyone else had been up to and what he was planning to report back to Rick that night; he looked over briefly to his soul mate and thanked every lucky star in the heavens that he’d survived long enough to have this day with her. If it was his last on earth, that was fine. Not ideal because he’d rather have many more just like it, to look forward to in his future but if that was it then it had been more than he figured he really deserved and he thought himself pretty damned lucky to have had it.


	79. Chapter 79

He went through it all with Rick. It had to be a brief report because the plan was to stay for another three days and that meant they needed the radio battery preserved but he’d spent the extra time to give a proper proposal and go over the details. It hadn’t been his fault that it had been Rosita that answered the call initially and the first couple of minutes had been wasted on shouting and swearing and freezing cold silence, as they’d waited for Rick and he’d actually tried to apologise to her without much success.

He guessed he could look forward to the cold shoulder treatment when he got home too but Rosita would come around eventually. Well that’s what Rick had assured him, when he finally got to the radio, anyway.

They’d all talked the whole thing through over dinner, before Daryl made his report. He figured there was no point keeping anything from anybody. There were a couple of characters here that he’d rather not be around twenty-four seven personally but there was no one that he was actively mistrustful of. They were what they appeared to be. He’d literally seen their dirty laundry, he’d fucking washed it for them. They were good people. People who could contribute to the other communities, people the other communities could help in return. No doubts.

Rick seemed happy. Happy to accept Daryl and Kit’s assessment, along with his own gut feeling and happy with the plans and the timescales too. He’d promised to put a building crew together and send up what hardware Alexandria and The Kingdom could spare as soon as possible. They’d bring a radio too. A proper one. Carol had already followed up on one of the leads they’d found at the recording studio at the beginning of the week. She’d found what amounted to a ‘radio shack’ by the sounds of it and they were already putting together a set for the farm, as well as extra hand sets, relays and signal boosters to keep them all connected long term.

Daryl gave Rick the list of people he thought might be interested in the farming way of life and who had some of the skills that would be needed up here. Rick promised to relay the list to the other communities, to feel out the interested parties and see what ideas they might have themselves.

It all took less than five minutes. Both men were used to short cutting conversations between them and Daryl had never been much of a talker at the best of times. He felt himself getting that way though. Now, he could honestly say, he did feel a little more comfortable with the sound of his own voice. A little more like, the occasionally chatty, occasionally funny, redneck asshole Rick might vaguely remember having met, at a quarry in Georgia, a million years ago.

Daryl could almost see the look of shock on the other man’s face, as he’d taken the time to ask after everyone. Specifically ask if he’d been taking it easier, specifically ask after asskicker and Michonne. Specifically ask how Carl was getting along at Hilltop and if he’d toppled Maggie and Jesus and taken over the place yet. Rick even laughed at the joke. In turn, he had asked after their people, wanted to make sure the guys weren’t being overworked but more specifically, he asked how Kit was doing. He probably expected short shrift but Daryl couldn’t help the warmth in his voice as he confirmed, to the only brother he would ever now have, that the love of his life was feeling much stronger and doing fine.

Closing out his report to Rick, Daryl put the finishing touches to his notes on their shopping list for tomorrow. Nick and Freddie had taken a run out today, to a nearby farm, where the community had been dipping into the feed store for their cows for the past couple of years. The supply was almost depleted and an alternative would need to be sourced as a backup, just in case the move to the meadow didn’t work out but for now, the trip had been successful and uneventful. They’d come back with what they needed and one more collection of little items, that none of them had ever thought to look for on previous raids and which Kit had specifically requested.

They’d pored over the phone books, maps and feed catalogues for a couple of hours after dinner. Most of the community had put in their own ideas about what they needed up here. Even the kids. Apparently a trampoline and some kind of swing-set were vital to everyone’s future survival. They had all laughed but the requests had gone on the list. Not the first list, not the ‘urgent and important’ list but definitely on the ‘get it if you see it’ list.

Daryl crossed off ‘chainsaws’, ‘digger’ and ‘radio equipment’ from the ‘urgent and important’ list in front of him and headed back to join the continuing discussions around the table. He stopped as he reached the open door and had a perfect view of Kit, standing at the opposite end of the table, working on a knot in Ted’s left shoulder.

Ben had mentioned that Ted’s back was hurting during dinner. He guessed she’d offered. They’d all been working hard all day up in the meadows and their hard work had paid off. The cows would be lead up there in the morning, after milking. It was ready. It was time and it was finally happening. They were all on a high after their achievements and for Daryl and Kit it had just compounded how useless they felt. Not that they hadn’t both enjoyed the ass off of their day together, in their own personal Eden but they’d already talked about how little they felt like they were contributing, in comparison to everyone else. That feeling had just mushroomed exponentially, when they’d heard how much things had come on and how hard everyone else had been working, while they had been literally screwing the day away at the lake.

Daryl took a moment, in the shadows of the doorway, to get a long hard look. Not at the sight in front of him but at himself. A week ago he’d have seethed with jealousy at the sight of Kit touching another man like that. Before he met her, he’d have baulked at the idea of a woman, who was spoken for, having any kind of relationships with men other than her husband or her boyfriend. It was just the way he’d been raised he guessed and the way Merle had always been with women. Actually, to be fair, he guessed Maggie and Michonne had already disabused him of that notion a little but he did consider both women to be his family too, so that was a muddy example.

Usually Merle and their daddy before him, had just used women as breathing sex toys for the most part but with the occasional girl, who’d made it to the hallowed ground of ‘girlfriend’, however briefly, she became Merle’s and Merle’s alone. If she had any male friends then she’d better forget about them for a while. The only man she was allowed to have any kind of physical contact with, while she was with Merle, was Merle. He wasn’t even particularly keen on his girls hugging their own daddy or brother. Daryl certainly knew better than to touch one of his girls himself. It might be tolerated if it was literally that or let the girl just fall on her damned ass right next to him but beyond that. Nope.

As he watched Kit now, all he really felt was relief for her, she was finally getting to do something that she would see as useful; a meaningful contribution, in the way that doing their damned laundry just hadn’t been. However glad they’d all obviously been to have a set or two of clean clothes for the first time in months, to Kit and Daryl it just wasn’t that important in the great scheme of things. Fixing a knotted shoulder was useful though, especially the shoulder of the handiest member of this community. If Ted was in fully working order then all was right with the world and they’d get shit done tomorrow, just like the rest of them had today.

The other most notable thing Daryl felt was pride. Not that she was ‘his’ in the way Merle might have been proud to be the owner of the biggest titted girl in the room, or some crap like that. Daryl wasn’t proud of ‘owning’ this beautiful creature, with magical, healing hands and he wasn’t proud of her abilities, like he was somehow responsible for them himself. He was, he was a little surprised at himself to discover, rather proud that a woman like that. A perfect specimen like Kit. That she would choose to love him, Daryl Dixon, above all others. He was proud FOR her not OF her but he was a little proud of himself too.

Definitely no jealousy anyway. He knew Kit felt useful and enjoyed ‘fixing’ things; muscles, backs, plans, communities. People too. Maybe she didn’t even realise it but she’d sure as shit fixed him. She’d made him a better person even after those first five days all those years ago and he was pretty sure it had made him a person worth knowing for the family group he’d acquired around himself since. If she knew it or not, he was certainly a better man now than he had been two weeks ago.

Was it only two weeks? Daryl felt like he’d done a lifetime of healing in that time, a lifetime of living and loving too. He’d almost certainly had more sex in the past week than he had in his own previous lifetime. He’d also had a lifetime’s worth of learning to be loved. She’d taught him that. He’d been sceptical a first, honestly convinced that she’d never look at him twice, never think about him the way he thought about her. He’d been wrong and he’d gradually come to realise and accept that fact. She loved him and if he didn’t exactly know why, he could at least now accept that it was true, it was how she felt and it wasn’t going to be changing any time soon.

Daryl didn’t need to worry about any other men, or women for that matter. She loved him and he knew it, deep in the marrow of his bones. He didn’t need to watch her like a hawk and tell her who her friends were allowed to be. She was his in a way that Merle could only have dreamed of (and wouldn’t have really wanted or appreciated if he’d had it) and he knew it because he was utterly and irrevocably hers as well.

Finally spotted in the shadowed doorway by Felix, as he was doing the rounds, kissing everyone goodnight, Daryl was finally dragged away from his own thoughts and back into the group. Swinging the little boy up into his arms he allowed himself to be kissed and handed the sleepy boy to his mother, mussing his hair with a smile. He took his seat at the table, as the other kids said goodnight too and followed Lisa and Felix to their beds.

He looked back over at the other end of the table, as further discussions about tomorrow’s ‘shopping trips’ continued and felt for the man on the receiving end of Kit’s ministrations. He knew that pain but he also knew the relief it would lead to and he shared that thought with Ted, down the length of the table. Everyone laughed, including Kit and Daryl’s heart burst with pride again at having caused her to make such a joyous sound. He caught her eye and his breath stopped for a second. She still had the power to do that to him, to make him forget everything around him and see only her. He figured she probably always would have that power and he smiled at the thought. Kit smiled back and Daryl was glad that he was the guy. He was the lucky, implicitly trusted bastard that would get to take her to bed later, when she got sleepy and hold her until she fell asleep, naked in his arms.


	80. Chapter 80

Kit woke the next morning, at the scrape and catch of the door closing, as Daryl came back into the room. It was a surprise to her that she’d slept through him getting out of bed and leaving the room at all but all became clear quickly.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya yet.” He mumbled, a little frustrated, as he set a small tray on the shelf nearest the bed.

“What’s the occasion?” Kit asked, spying the highball glass with a small sprig of wild flowers in it on the tray.

She sat up awkwardly, pulling the sheet up around her. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed but Daryl was clothed and she wasn’t sure what was up exactly. Looking over the tray, she spied two mugs and a hunk of buttered bread, along with a generous helping of Patty’s homemade jam.

“It’s our two-week anniversary.” Daryl smiled, sitting on the bed and leaning in to kiss her laughing mouth.

“Mmm,” she mumbled into his lips “I didn’t have you pegged for the romantic ‘two-week anniversary’ type?”

“I ain’t.” He mumbled back into her lips. “Just struck me it was two weeks since the luckiest day I ever had in my whole fuckin’ life an’ I figured it’d be nice to celebrate.” He kissed her again and broke off suddenly. “Just this once… don’t get used to it… I’ll prob’ly forget every real anniversary we’re ever gonna have.”

Kit laughed and pulled him back for more. “Mmmmh, don’t worry, me too…. But this is nice… thank you.”

Daryl passed her a mug and glowed when he saw her realise what was in it. So far, during their visit here, they’d had access to nothing but water, milk and coffee. Daryl had had a cup or two of the black stuff but Kit couldn’t stand coffee. She’d been happy enough, she’d never said a thing but Daryl wanted to treat her for their ‘anniversary’. He’d asked around quietly, as Kit had finished with Ted’s back and moved on to Mike and Ben, who also had niggles. He hadn’t expected to find anything like what she was used to but Lisa had smiled at the question.

“I get cravings sometimes too.” She’d confided. “Wait here.” She’d disappeared off to find Patty before she and Lionel went off to bed and returned ten minutes later with a single bag. She laughed at Daryl’s questioning look.

“If I knew where they were myself I’d go through them in a week.” She explained. “This way, I have to ask and Patty keeps me in check… I don’t even know how many we have or which ‘shopping trip’ this particular box was found on.”

Daryl checked the label on the tag. “English Breakfast?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, that’ll do her, does me… It’s not from home… not exactly the ‘Rolls Royce’ of black teas but she’ll be happy with it.” Daryl froze as she reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “She’s a lucky duck.” She whispered in passing, patting his shoulder, as she moved away to join the rest of the group at the table.

Daryl had no idea what Lisa had meant by that and he wasn’t sure how he felt about being kissed by random women he’d just met but he figured she didn’t mean anything by it and she was obviously right about the tea. Kit was definitely happy with her treat.

They shared the bread and jam and once breakfast was done and she’d had the chance to visit the bathroom briefly, they settled down to some serious making out. Daryl had woken with the first rays of sun to prepare their breakfast in bed. The milking team would only just have been getting up as Kit and Daryl ate. They had another hour or two before they’d be expected to set off, with the rest of the group, for their run. The experienced cow handlers would be moving the herd up to the meadow right now and no one would be milling around in the kitchen area until that was done. If ever there was a chance for some privacy, here in camp, then this was it. If Daryl wanted his chance to make her scream a little and finally get a good taste of the honey pot, he guessed he’d better make the most of this next hour or so.

\-------------------------

Kit smiled across the table, as she caught Daryl’s eye. A little thrill went down her spine as she realised she’d flustered him a little, while he was trying to plan their route with Ted, Alice, Shauna and Neil. With a naughty wink at him, she left them to it and helped Patty serve up breakfast to everyone else. Ted and Alice would be heading back up shortly, to relieve the boys and let them come back down here and get some rest. Shauna would stay here with Patty and Lionel to wrangle the kids and take care of the other animals. It would be much easier now, with more room and a chance to get organised but it would still be a busy day and everyone needed a good feed.

As breakfast drew to a close, the group gathered by the vehicles for their last briefing. Daryl’s shitty A-to-B car had been topped up with fuel and he knew it was in good order mechanically, so it would take point. The truck Shauna and Neil had brought up here three years previously was still in good shape and they’d never had issues with it on other runs. It boasted a tow bar, which they’d used for the animal carrier and it had plenty of room on the truck bed too. Hopefully they’d find a good selection of what they needed; animal feeds, building materials and food were top of the list, medical supplies and anything that could help with drainage and sanitation were next.

The plan was to make a start on the new ‘homes’ as soon as possible and this run was to prepare the way for the building crews that would be here in just a couple of days to make a start. If they found any additional campervans or caravans that were useable and portable enough, they’d be taking them back for temporary housing too.

Everyone had their lists and split off into two groups. Kit and Daryl took the old banger, with the dog happy in the back – much to the dismay of the children, who’d adopted her as their playmate for the past two days. Neil, Mike and Lisa took their places in the truck. Waving goodbye to the watching children and the two women, Daryl for one was happy to be getting back out and doing something worthwhile for a change.

The plan had been to hit two non-descript, low key, logistics warehouses and a garden centre that catered to trade, outside of a town, several miles further out than the farm community had ever gone before. But to get to the second place they had had to pass through the main drag. Kit would usually have ignored the main road of a town like this but it didn’t look to have been hit that hard and they were a decent sized crew. It might be worth a look, on the way back, if they had time. Daryl had nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion as they drove through. Kit wasn’t sure why he was so keen. Maybe he was hoping for some better fitting shirts.

The morning was a middling success. They got most of the urgent and important supplies in that first warehouse and topped up with everything else at the second. They’d even found a good sized ‘self assembly’ swingset and slide at the first place. There wasn’t room for it in the truck but they’d decided to put it somewhere easy to get to and see if they could find a trailer or some bungee cord, to strap it to the piece-of-shit car’s roof if necessary, on the way back.

The garden centre was the icing on the cake. A bizarre amount of truly useful stuff, just laying around, including an even better swing-set/ slide combo, several small trailers and a small quad bike that was just sat in one of the sheds, obviously having been used to ferry around the bigger sale items for customers. The keys to the bike were hanging up in the break room next to a big box of variously sized overalls and hanging right beside them was a bunch of keys with a VW Campervan keychain on it. Another quick search of the larger outbuildings produced the camper itself, alongside two other vehicles and various car parts, fuel cans and generally useful mechanical detritus.

Daryl looked like he’d found heaven and Kit had to smile, while he hurried around, checking the vehicles with Mike. She’d let them get on with it and returned to the others, helping to load one of the trailers and fit the roof rack they’d found to the ‘shit car’.

They rolled out in convoy two hours later, with more than they could ever have hoped for, crammed into the truck with the trailer it pulled behind, the ‘shit car’ packed to the rafters and beyond and the VW bringing up the rear, pulling another trailer with the quad bike on it. They’d agreed in advance that they still had so much daylight to burn that Kit and Daryl may as well hit the high street on the way home. The car was well packed inside but there was still a little room on top and a few crevices to fill in the boot, or ‘trunk’ if the men insisted. They’d promised only to hit the few useful looking shops on one side of the street and be right behind the main group, no more than an hour or two in their wake.

\-----------------------------

 

At the time he walked through the door, Daryl had thought they’d ended up in that shop by some accident of fate but if he really thought about it, he’d known it was on that side of the street and he’d had the plan in the back of his mind all day. He’d enjoyed their morning together, as a big group. It had felt like being part of a team, like being back in Garvey but with the slight safety cushion of other people watching their backs. This last hour had been the best though. Any time it was just him and Kit, with an occasional check in from the dog, was always going to be the best.

They’d swept four shops already. They both had some new shirts, pants and shoes. They’d picked up spares for the community. They’d picked up some bedding, comforters, pillows, sheets, blankets. There were bits and pieces of canned and packaged food. It had been a good haul. Well worth the stop. Probably well worth coming back again tomorrow for more of the above.

As he stood in that last boarded up shop though, he knew he hadn’t really been interested in getting any of that stuff. He knew this had been his plan from the moment he’d seen the sign on the way in. He knew he was meant to be here. He’d never put much store in fate but this just felt too damned right for any other word. He knew what he had to do. What he wanted, more than anything, to do.

He didn’t call out to her. It was the next shop in the row, they’d done well in the back rooms of all of the others with little items of food; tea, coffee, etcetera. She wouldn’t think anything of it. She’d come looking for him in a minute. He assumed the position and waited. He felt like some pansy assed fuckin’ girl or something and he was sure as hell glad there was no one else around to witness this shit but Daryl found that, when it came down to it, he was a good old fashioned southern boy at heart. He wanted to do it and he wanted to do it right.

The look on her face when she walked into the shop and saw him on his knee was priceless. Worth any amount of humiliation. She had no fucking clue. She didn’t get it. Her confusion was evident and he saw theory after theory flit across her mind in the blink of an eye before he held out the little velvet box and the penny finally dropped.

She’d fallen to her knees with him, right there in the shop, surrounded by the cases of jewelry and hugged him tight in total silence. It had been some form of shock, he figured, he’d held her tight and asked “That a maybe?”

He felt her catch her breath, actually breathe for the first time in minutes. She pulled back and looked him in the face. “Oh my god Daryl, are you serious?”

“Damn right I am.” He’d answered, simple and honest. “Guess it’s kind of old fashioned but I wanna be able to call you mine. And I wanna be yours.” He added. “Will you Kit?... Will you marry me?”

She grabbed him for another hug. Buried her face in his neck and he was sure he felt tears. “You thinkin’ about it at least?” He was pretty sure he knew her answer, she’d just plum forgotten to breathe again. He stroked her hair and breathed in her scent, waiting patiently for her to recover herself.

“Yes.” She eventually managed between tears of joy. “Yes, oh my god, absolutely yes. Yes I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll be yours.” She pulled back to look him in the eyes, holding his face in her hands. “I am already yours Daryl but I’d love to be your wife.”

He kissed her sweet mouth, almost just to shut her up, long and languorous, like there was nowhere to be and nothing to do for the rest of the day. Her tears dried gradually and eventually the kiss had to end. Daryl’s knees were starting to ache.

He put the box in her hand as he helped her up. “I just picked one I thought looked pretty. There’s plenty more to choose from. It’s probably the wrong size anyway.”

It was the wrong size but it was absolutely perfect in every other respect, as far as Kit was concerned. She wouldn’t have been able to hide it from him if she didn’t like it. She DIDN’T like it. She absolutely fucking LOVED it. They found one exactly the same, in the right size and she had him put it on her finger properly before pulling him in to another celebratory kiss. It was a simple, white gold band, with some sparkle but with no big brash stone, sticking out at an imposing angle, all ready to cause an accident. He’d liked it because it looked pretty but practical. He felt like that summed Kit up.

The dog finally came to see what the hell they were getting up to, having presumably done her usual thorough sweep of the surrounding area and made sure there were no dead roaming about. She sniffed around them and accepted scruffs and pats as they picked out their wedding bands. They had figured they may as well, while they were at it and then filled a bag with a few extras, for other couples in the communities, to choose from in the future. It would be better than having to chop one off a walker’s finger, as Glenn had had to do for Maggie’s. They left all of the other rings like the ones they’d chosen for themselves though. They didn’t want anyone else to have THEIR rings.


	81. Chapter 81

Two months after that first day in Garvey…

Daryl gave up as Rick, Carl and Jesus arrived. He dropped the ends of the tie in frustration and joined the other men in Aaron and Eric’s kitchen. He’d stayed here last night and felt lost without Kit when he’d woken to find an empty pillow by his side. It was crazy really, he’d only known her two months this time around and had spent his entire adult life with an empty bed up to that point. Come to think of it, he’d never shared a bed with anyone as a kid either, so really it had just been these two months out of his whole life. Didn’t matter, she was so much part of him now, that having her gone had hurt physically. He wondered if she’d felt the same when she woke up without him. He hoped she’d slept, a little at least, after last night.

He thought about their life together, as they saw Aaron off to join Eric at the church and as the others joked around and tried to snap him out of his funk. He thought about that room full of walkers he’d have strolled right into if she hadn’t stopped him, wondered if those walkers were still ambling around in there. He thought about the barn, how they’d both just rolled away the years between and worked as a perfect team. How she’d just generally been a fucking super hero through the whole thing.

He thought about how he’d be dead if she hadn’t been there that day. And he thought that, if she hadn’t been there that day, if he’d died, aside from it being bad news for those girls, it wouldn’t really have mattered much in the great scheme of things to anyone else, including himself. THAT Daryl hadn’t had anything but pain and shitty survival instincts to live for.

Daryl smiled at the memories of all the good times since and especially at the memory of holding Kit’s hand in the car on the way back to the farmstead. The cold metal of the engagement ring, already warming against her flesh and becoming part of her. She’d smiled at him and winked, as Lisa prattled on excitedly that night at dinner. He would have married her the minute they’d got back to Alexandria, two days later, if that had been allowed.

It wasn’t allowed. Everyone had an opinion and he didn’t like people telling him how he should marry the woman he loved but some of them had merit. It would be nice to have Carol, Morgan and Maggie there. They were part of his family too. Carol and Maggie especially and he didn’t like the idea of what either of them might say, if he went off and just got married without even inviting them. No one in their right mind wanted to incur the wrath of Carol but Maggie’s ire wasn’t something he wanted to provoke either.

As for Kit, he knew she’d like Jesus, Lisa and the kids there. She’d known them longer than anyone else in the area, including himself, so they were kind of the closest thing she had to family of her own. And they would both like to have Clara and Wendy there. Those girls were the reason they’d found each other again in the first place and without them they may never have reconnected. The thought of them both still being alive in the world, just a few miles apart and not knowing that the other was alive sent shivers through his soul.

And now here he finally was, on his wedding day, surrounded by men in a house that wasn’t his. Wanting nothing more than to hold the woman he loved in his arms, say a few words and be told that she was his forever. His wife.

“Is it the tie man?” Asked Carl. “I bet she won’t care if you don’t want to wear it.”

“No, you should wear the tie Daryl.” Rick interjected “Women love a man in a tie.”

“Yeah?” Daryl wasn’t sure about that but he wanted to look his best for her. They’d turned over a few men’s clothing stores to find a decent suit that didn’t make him look like a gorilla in fancy dress. It drove him slightly crazy that they’d had to search so hard, when he knew for a fact that Kit had just walked into the first ladies clothing store she’d come across, after the engagement and walked out ten minutes later with her “perfect dress”.

“Just ain’t worn one before, is all.” He mumbled “You know how to tie it?”

Rick offered his help with the tie and Jesus handed him his suit jacket. Daryl gave the jacket an unfriendly scowl. He hated it. It made him feel like a mental patient in one of those straight-jackets. He’d wear it all, just this once, for her. Tomorrow he looked forward to making a bonfire out of the entire outfit.

“Thanks.” He figured he must sound pretty unconvincing, judging by Jesus’ expression. “Think I’ll put it on just before.”

They all laughed. He’d usually hate that but he knew that today they were laughing with him, not at him. Really, by now, he knew that they never laughed at him. These were the closest things to real friends that he’d ever had and were definitely the closest things to family he’d ever have again. Except for his wife, of course. He smiled at that thought of her, of real honest to god family. If anyone knew what their future held, they’d have assumed Daryl was scared shitless today but he wasn’t. He was looking forward to it all and just couldn’t wait to get started.

“Fuckin’ hate that thing.” He added, throwing it unceremoniously over a chair and accepting Carl’s offered glass of Dutch courage.

\-------------------

“Now that is a dress!” Maggie smiled, rising with difficulty, as Kit came out of the bedroom.

Kit coloured slightly, at the compliment and shook her head but she smiled too. She was getting used to having people around her these days and she was rediscovering her old self, the one who could chat and banter and cope with people wanting part of you. She’d come to enjoy these girlie chats and getting to know the women who’d played such a role in Daryl’s recent past. She would never meet any of his real family, something which they were both probably reluctantly glad of but she was beginning to regard this family as her own.  And she had Lisa of course, she laughed a little nervously as her old travelling buddy offered her a glass.

Maggie wasn’t wrong. The dress had called to Kit the second she saw it. It was just a light, simple, summer dress. It wasn’t a wedding dress but it was definitely a ‘something special’ dress. It was pure white and if she said it herself, it was a bloody good fit and it definitely suited her. She wasn’t used to being in anything so feminine, it was weird but it made her feel so good, so confident.

She hadn’t even tried it on in the shop, just held it up in front of a grubby mirror and knew it would be perfect. She spent longer finding a pair of nice non-sensible shoes to wear with it. She’d kept the dress as well hidden as she could on the way home and given it to Michonne to keep at their place, when she got back. Michonne’s reaction had been very similar to Maggie’s, when Kit had first tried it on. She hoped Daryl would love it too.

“Reckon I’ll do for your boy then?” she asked the assembled women of Daryl’s family.

“Sweetheart, YOUR boy is going to go nuts when he sees you today and it won’t be because of that dress.” Carol held Kit by the shoulders and smiled warmly.

Kit felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She’d never been much of a crier but she guessed today was going to do it if anything could and Carol seemed to have the knack of getting her there fast. Maybe it was because she felt like Carol knew Daryl better than anyone else in the group. Understood him and understood her. She’d been the one to push them into doing something about their connection in the first place. Her blessing was perhaps the most important, for both of them, as a result.

“It’ll be because he’ll feel like the luckiest man on earth, to have found you in the first place and to have somehow managed to trick you into marrying him.”

The laughter helped to diffuse the moment and stop her crying before she started. Lisa, Michonne, Rosita and Maggie crowded in for a group hug and Jesus walked in to find all six women, in their best finery, laughing and smiling in a tangled huddle, as the dog looked on rather flummoxed at all the fuss and noise.

“Hey,” he said, “I should have come over earlier, this place is way less tense than the big house.” He smiled at his own joke but the words he’d thought ‘light’ and ‘harmless’ caused instant worry in the face of the bride.

“Why?” Her face fell and he realized his mistake instantly. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no, everything’s fine Kit honestly…Wow!” he remarked as the other women cleared to her sides and he saw her in all her glory. “Kit, you look…”

“Yeah thanks,” she dismissed the compliment before it was even out of his mouth “What’s up over there?”

Jesus had no way of knowing the anxiety he was causing with a flippant comment but Kit was the only one present who knew that Daryl may have good reason to be flipping out right now.

“Really, nothing. Bad choice of words on my part. Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. Daryl can’t wait to get to that church and marry the hell out of you.” He approached her smiling and saw the tension he’d caused begin to dissipate. He got a little over confident with his success and went for an amusing addendum. “Mostly so he can take that damn suit off but still, he can’t wait to marry you.”

“Suit?” She asked, confused.

“Oh shit,” he thought “Why can’t I ever just quit when I’m ahead?”

Kit had been vaguely aware, during runs in the weeks following their engagement, that Daryl and the boys spent a lot of their time in the men’s departments of clothing stores. She’d figured that they were all looking for a nice pair of trousers and a decent shirt for the big day. She’d never expected Daryl to wear a full on suit. She didn’t want him to wear a suit. She hated to think of him suffering through their wedding in some ‘instrument of torture’ monkey suit.

She’d been so pleased with the dress and the ease with which she’d found it, that she’d told him about her lucky find, that same night. Told him she was so glad to have found the perfect dress. That she wanted to look nice for him on their big day. She realized now what those words would have translated to in Daryl’s head. That he’d busted a gut for the next couple of weeks to find a fucking suit, thinking that he needed it to look nice for HER on their big day.

“So stupid Kit.” She admonished herself. She wasn’t even really wearing the dress FOR him, she was wearing it for herself. She wanted to look nice on her wedding day full stop. And she would. She did. But she would look nice because she felt confident and comfortable and bloody pretty in it. She wanted that for Daryl too.

“Right.” She sounded like she meant business and she did. “Paul, I need you to go back over there and tell him that I’ve got my wings out and I want him wearing his. No suit jacket. OK.” She spun him around and pushed him lightly back towards the door. “And if he’s wearing anything but his biker boots I’ll be upset.” She added, as he crossed the threshold.

“Yes ma’am.” He waved behind him as he walked “Your wish is my command.”

She looked back at the assembled women. “Men!” she exclaimed.

“Daryl in a suit!?!” Maggie shook her head in wonder.

“I’d have paid good money to see that though.” Michonne laughed.

“He wouldn’t have done it for money.” Carol added, with pride in Daryl for the truth of that sentence and Kit for not letting him compromise himself for her.

Michonne and Maggie nodded their agreement but Michonne couldn’t resist adding “Still gonna be lookin’ fine, wearin’ the ass out of a nice pair of suit pants though I bet.” She winked at Kit and they all laughed again.

“Not betting against that.” Kit responded, arching an eyebrow. This cheeky girl-talk about their respective men, was still new to her but she was growing to like it. It helped that she was so proud of her man, as the others were of their own. “And hey, if Daryl was planning on a suit, your guys might be going suited and booted too.” She and Carol laughed as Michonne and Lisa shared a look and a little growl at the thought.

The gaggle of excited women all wished Kit well and made their way off to collect the men and make their way to the church, leaving Kit and Lisa to their final preparations. Lisa fussing and preening at Kit’s hair, as the bride herself seemed lost in her own thoughts, smiling at something Lisa couldn’t see.

Just another few minutes and they’d be together again, another few hours and they’d be alone and married and starting their new life together. Kit couldn’t wait. She’d slept in fits and starts but she’d missed him, from the moment he left.

***

She and Lisa had spent the previous night talking over dinner and she’d left early, to go back to the kids in the guest house and put them to bed. Kit had used the opportunity of some time alone, to do something that had been praying on her mind for a few days. She was sat on the edge of the bath, in her little en-suite, motionless with shock, when she’d heard Daryl calling out for her from the room beyond the door.

She’d tried to sound normal, as she’d told him he shouldn’t be there, the night before the wedding. Neither of them were much for traditions but this one had just seemed practical and they’d both agreed that a little separation would make the wedding night all the sweeter. He’d obviously decided he couldn’t manage without one last kiss before bed though and she hadn’t been very convincing apparently because he’d instantly known something was wrong.

“Kit?” He asked worriedly, from the other side of the door. “Y’alright?”

He tried the door handle and Kit leapt up to stop his progress with her booted foot. “I’m fine.” She lied, a little too shrill, even to her own ears. “You should go back to the house.”

“Y’aint ‘fine’… what’s wrong?”

“I’m, you… you just caught me at a bad time. I’m fine though, really.”

“Ya bin cryin’?” He asked.

She hadn’t, but she was now, she suddenly realised. She wiped the tears away and shook her head. “No, really I’m OK, I just had some things on my mind.”

“Ya havin’ second thoughts?” He was a little further from the door now, she could hear it and his tone had taken on that slight note of wounded little boy.

“NO! … No, nothing like that.” She tried to reassure him, still hiding behind a plank of wood.

“Sure sounds like it.” Daryl responded. “Talk ta me Kit… what is it?”

“I…. I’m just …. “ She deflated, realising that she did need to tell someone what was going on in her head and although the timing was terrible, she didn’t want that someone to be anyone but Daryl. “I did something stupid and now I’ve scared myself shitless.” She admitted.

“Well, what did you do?” He asked “Cause if ya just died your hair some dumb colour or cut out the red or somethin’ you know I don’t care about any o’ that shit right?”

She laughed a little, wishing her stupidity had been that minor. “Not quite.” She replied.

“Well what is it then? Can’t be that bad… you can tell me… maybe it won’t seem so bad if you do.”

“I’m worried if I tell you, it’ll just scare you shitless too.”

Daryl laughed. “Can’t think of a thing I’m scared of, except losin’ you… or you bein’ hurt.”

“Me too.” Kit mumbled back through the crack in the door. Her foot was still firmly wedged there but there were a few inches of opening. Before she could re-think and change her mind, she passed a small object through the gap.

Daryl hadn’t ever had cause to handle a pregnancy test before. He’d seen them in movies, on TV, he knew what it was but it took him a second to register what it meant. “Shit!” He exhaled the word before he could stop himself.

“I know… I know… I’m sorry. I should have done the test weeks ago but I forgot when I was due, there’s been so much else going on, I just forgot and then I only really thought about it yesterday. I found the test in the store house but there was so much happening, everyone arriving, I was never alone long enough to take it and it could have just been a glitch, or early menopause or something. There was no need to worry you too and then I just took it now and it’s something to worry about and I’ve left it too late and now it’s the night before the wedding and…”

“Kit!” Daryl had to raise his voice to be heard over her incoherent rambling. He sounded mad, even if he wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry.” She offered.

“What are you sorry about exactly?” Daryl asked quietly. “You sorry about the timin’ or you sorry you’re pregnant in the first place?”

“I…. I don’t… I haven’t had time to think about it.” She answered.

“Well you have a little think.” He offered. “I had a minute while you was gabbin’ on and I’ve had a few weeks since we talked about it last. So I’m ‘na tell you what I think.”

Daryl took a breath and a moment to clear his thoughts. “I think I ain’t never thought about havin’ kids before, ain’t never been on the cards before and I think the first time we talked about it I was scared shitless that now it might be. Hadn’t occurred to me ‘til then… hadn’t had a chance to think it through... Like you are now.”

“Since then I thought about it a time or two. Seein’ you with Lisa’s kids, I know you’ll be a good mama an’ I know I don’t know my ass from my elbow but you’d keep me straight. Since we talked I’ve got to thinkin’ that if it happens it happens and if it does, I’m gonna be alright with that.”

Daryl heard a little sniff from behind the door and smiled as he continued. “Well I guess it’s happened an’ it ain’t the best timin’ and I could o’ done without bein’ told through a door the night before our weddin’ but just so you know… I’m alright with it… in case you were lookin’ for an opinion.”

The door opened slowly and Daryl stayed where he was until she came out of her own accord. She looked wary and her eyes were still a little watery but there was something like relief in there too.

“Are you sure you’re OK with it?” She asked, stepping forward.

Daryl pulled her into his arms, kissing her neck and cradling her head, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a shuddering death-grip.

“I ain’t sayin’ I’m not scared shitless too… ‘cause I am.” He answered. “But I love ya an’ I love whatever we made in there an’ I know we’ll be alright ‘cause you got months to plan for it.” He laughed in her ear and she couldn’t help but join in.

“Then I’m just sorry for the timing.” She replied, claiming a kiss from the father of her child.

***

Lisa repeated the question because Kit appeared to be in a daze. Poor girl, it was probably nerves. Lisa knew it was nothing to do with marrying Daryl, just having to do it in front of a cast of hundreds, that was probably the cause.

“Are you ready?”

“Hmm?” Kit hummed, snapping out of whatever was on her mind. “Oh, yes, of course…. We’d better get going, or he’ll think I’ve done a runner.”

Both women laughed at the unlikelihood of that and they made their way to the door, where the dog was already waiting.


	82. Chapter 82

It seemed like a royal wedding or something to Kit, who had never expected to get married and had never been the type to have girlie dreams of her wedding day. It all seemed a bit much to her. In the normal run of things, she’d have been more than happy to have ten minutes in a registry office, with a couple of mates as witnesses, a fish and chips wedding breakfast on a park bench and a nice local pub for a bit of a booze-up after…. If she’d ever have considered it at all.

Alexandria had gone nuts. The moment they’d heard about the impending nuptials, mostly from the public address systems that were Tara and Eric, everyone had wanted to contribute. Kit and Daryl had tried to argue for a quick, simple affair but it seemed to mean so much to everyone else. Rick had practically begged them to let everyone take over, if they weren’t so fussed about the details and just turn up on the day when they were told. They’d shrugged and agreed, as long as the date was soon.

It wasn’t soon enough for Kit and Daryl. There was so much to be done right now. Shoring up the farm community, helping them become viable and sustainable in the short term and capitalising on the ocean of possibilities that had opened up since finding them. Everyone was full of plans and ideas for the future, the whole world seemed full of possibilities and hope again. Everyone was using this wedding as a kind of communal celebration of it all. All they had survived, all they had fought and sacrificed and died for. They were on the brink of something better and this was their chance to celebrate it.

So today was a big day in Alexandria. Everyone would be in attendance. Maggie and Jesus had brought Clara, Wendy and a handful of people Kit and Daryl both knew fairly well from Hilltop, as well as four guys they hardly knew from Adam. Carol and Morgan had also brought four relative strangers and while the entire town of Alexandria and selected guests, celebrated, those ‘extra’ neighbours would be keeping watch on the walls.

It was standing room only, and not a heck of a lot of that, as Kit approached the open church doors, preceded by the dog and Lisa and arm in arm with Paul. He’d taken off his ridiculous ‘benny’ hat and wore his Sunday best to escort her down the aisle and she was suitably honoured.

The dog was padding along a little ahead of them as they entered the church and as her eyes adjusted to the light, Kit caught sight of her groom waiting at the alter. She was relieved to see the wings on his back, as the place hushed around her and she made her way towards him. He sensed the change in the crowd and turned to watch her. It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since she’d been the focus of those eyes but she’d missed it. She thrilled at the piercing, approving, gaze and had to fight the irresistible urge to unhook her arm from Paul’s and run to him.

Kit enjoyed the little flurry of hushed whispers at her back, as she took her place beside Daryl at the alter. The dress was cut low at the back. It had been something of a bitch getting hold of a backless bra in her size, which was up to the job at hand but it was worth it to hear fifty or more individual little gasps as she and Daryl stood side by side with their wings on show. Looking, for all the world, like a pair of bookends that were always meant to be together.

As the dog settled at her side and Paul stepped back from them, she had a chance to really take Daryl in. Good god he looked handsome today. He’d done well to find a nice shirt, that could cope with those shoulders and the trousers were rather fetching but she didn’t need any of that. She’d have been happy to marry him if he’d turned up in ripped cargo pants, a scraggy old shirt, with a black eye, a split lip and covered in Walker gunk. She knew he’d have been happy to marry her if she’d walked down the aisle in a bin bag. None of it mattered. It was all just window dressing. ‘Nice to haves’, nothing more. There was just one thing though.

Father Gabriel cleared his throat to begin but Kit couldn’t let it go. “Ummm, sorry father.” She said, holding up her hand. “Just a mo.” She turned to Daryl and reached for the offending article. “I had to wear one of these every school-day for seven years.” She told him, as she deftly pulled the tie loose. “You don’t ever have to wear one for me.” She smiled, balling up the tie “Don’t need you in a yolk.” She added, throwing it at Rick, alongside an amused Carl, who stood to Daryl’s right mumbling something about “ages to get that damn thing right”. Daryl smiled proudly back at her, as he undid the collar button of the crisp white shirt and somehow managed to seem exponentially more handsome than he had just seconds before.

“Are we ready?” Father Gabriel asked, good naturedly.

“We are.” Kit and Daryl answered in chorus.

\-----------------------

“Can I get you anything?” Glenn asked, squatting down next to his wife and placing his hand gently on her belly. “Either of you?” he laughed.

“No, we’re fine thank you.” Maggie mumbled back at him, before she realised she’d been daydreaming and the hand on her belly belonged to Jesus. She figured she should have been sad but she wasn’t. She missed Glenn every day and often felt his presence there on the veil between waking and sleeping. It was a comfort and it felt right that he’d be with her today. She knew that Daryl would never be persuaded to stop blaming himself for Glenn’s death but Maggie never had and never would. She knew that if Glenn was ever truly with them, he’d be here today, to watch one of his best friends, his brothers, finally allowing himself a moment of happiness, finally finding the love of his life and accepting the love he deserved.

She smiled at Jesus as he withdrew his hand and hey both shot a quick look over at the party in full swing and grinned at the sight of Daryl and Kit, holding on to each other for dear life, as they navigated a social gathering that was all about them.

“You better get back over there and give those two some cover.” She laughed.

“I guess.” Jesus hopped to his feet happily. “But I don’t think they’ll last much longer.”

“No,” she replied with a naughty smile, “he’s itching to get her home.” They shared a laugh as he backed away from her.

“As soon as they start heading for the door I think we should make tracks too. You need your rest.” He pointed at her and let his eyes drop to the bump.

“OK, sounds good to me.”  She nodded in agreement. It had been a long day for her and she was coming up fast on her due date. So fast, in fact, that it had been more of a necessity than an invitation for Dr C to accompany them to the wedding today.

Maggie watched Jesus make his way back over to the clutch of people driving Daryl and Kit nuts. She stroked her belly absentmindedly with one hand and petted Kit’s dog, who’d decided to keep her company, with the other. All the while admiring Jesus’ skill, as he seamlessly drew attention away from the happy couple, to give them a measure of peace, for a few minutes.

She knew it cost him something to be the centre of attention. She hadn’t really understood why he’d never just taken over from Gregory himself, rather than play along, not until she knew him better. He was more Machiavellian, much more the power BEHIND the throne. He was an expert at getting people on side on a one-to-one basis and getting things done that way. It wouldn’t have worked in a small group and in a big group he couldn’t have coped with the high visibility and the barnstorming rhetoric necessary to motivate large swathes of people to do what you ask. But he was a perfect partner for Maggie. She couldn’t run Hilltop without him and he couldn’t hold it together without her. They were a team and she considered him a friend and as close to her as this family were. She smiled with pride as she watched him do his thing.

It had been a beautiful day and a beautiful wedding and she was glad she had made it. Maggie had taken to Kit pretty much from the get go but she’d really grown to love her these past few weeks. It was largely because Kit was breathing life back into Daryl and she suspected that Daryl was breathing life back into Kit too. They seemed to even each other out somehow, they just fit together seamlessly and Maggie was glad to see it.

As everyone else had been fussing around about a big wedding that neither of them really wanted, they’d taken it on the chin and kept out of the way, getting on with the real work. Carol and the team from the Kingdom had taken point on the radio network, borrowing resources from Hilltop as needed and Maggie had been more than happy to contribute. Meanwhile Daryl and Kit had taken the lead with integrating the new group into the larger whole of their shared community.

There were various projects underway at the farm itself of course but it made sense to split resources across the other communities too, to allow for any catastrophes and make sure they were all future-proofed. They’d started by taking key members of the farm group out to meet the other communities, see for themselves what was out there and collaborate with others who knew a thing or two about taking care of animals.

Shawna had been overjoyed not to be stuck in an endless loop of crisis-management anymore. She’d met a blacksmith, who could finally, properly, shoe the horses at the farm, as well as taking Boon on as an apprentice for a few months. She could really begin to think long-term and had met a veterinary nurse and a zoologist who were more than happy to learn from her and really start up some effective animal husbandry and breeding programmes. They had only talked about it so far but the plans were exciting and could lead to each community being entirely self-sufficient in the long-haul.

Not everyone was happy about all the cross-pollination of course. Boon’s parents were hardly happy about the prospect of being split up from their son but the boy was over the moon and the constant contact with the other communities made the whole world seem a little smaller, a little friendlier and a little more like the old world the older generations still remembered and missed. Three small family units and two individuals had committed to joining the farm community already. Long-term, the farm would be the main milk churn and dairy for all four communities, Hilltop would continue to be the main bread basket and the Kingdom and Alexandria would be the main fruit and vegetable producers, alongside holding on to a few animals to provide redundancy in case of disease at the other communities.

Everything seemed possible now. As Maggie rubbed a hand over her bulging belly, she smiled at the prospect of the world her and Glenn’s child might inherit. Real hope was there at last and as long as she still felt his presence sometimes, she liked to imagine that he was still here to see it.

Breaking her daze again, Maggie watched with great amusement, as Kit dragged Daryl on to the dance floor for their first dance. Kit had the look of a woman on a mission to get something over with. Maggie hoped those pretty shoes were up to being stepped on by her partner but she knew Kit wouldn’t care either way.

She was amazing for Daryl. Maggie couldn’t have wished for a better partner for him. Kit loved him exactly as he was. Felt no need to try and change him in the slightest. By loving him just the way he was she’d given him the confidence to take a little more pride in himself off his own bat. He’d really come into his own these past few weeks and had even taken to cracking the odd wise-ass remark again. He wasn’t changing for her, he was just re-discovering some of the energy and wit but thankfully not so much of the sharp-tongued sting, of his old self.

As the newlyweds settled into a slow shuffling dance, blocking out everything else and having eyes only for each other, the rest of the community took to the floor around them and she lost sight of them for a second among the crowd. There they were again, moments later, two chestnut-thatched heads, thick as thieves, circling in unison. Maggie couldn’t imagine what words they could be exchanging, these two often taciturn individuals, who hardly seemed to talk much, beyond the necessary, even between themselves. “How can we escape without anyone noticing?” was probably high up on the agenda, she thought with a laugh.

But they did speak. She knew they must speak a lot, in fact. They certainly knew a lot about each other. Maggie knew, from things Kit had said, from the tone and the note of real understanding, more than the words, that she knew about Beth and Glenn. Not just that Beth was Maggie’s sister but that she’d been important to Daryl too. Kit seemed to know about everyone they’d lost, everywhere they’d been, everything they’d done. She’d known all about them, even before Daryl had brought her back to Alexandria that first time.

She was never at a loss when one of them started reminiscing, about T-Dog or Andrea or Tyreese, she knew about their daddy’s farm and the Walker Barn and the Governor. She knew that Glenn had delivered pizza in a previous life and that Daryl had named Judith Li’l Ass-Kicker before her daddy had roused himself from his grief enough to face his new daughter.

And Kit had obviously shared far more with Daryl than she had with any of her other new friends. She even noted once or twice, that Lisa didn’t seem to have as full an understanding, of her oldest living friend, as Daryl did. There were unspoken dark patches in her past that she might never share with any of them but Maggie was pretty certain there was nothing that was off-limits to Daryl. Everyone in that church had been shocked to hear her full name, during their vows for instance; even Lisa, who had made a crack during the speeches about Kit always being precious about her passport and now knowing why. But Daryl had known. He hadn’t been phased in the slightest.

It wasn’t so much her surname that had shocked the congregation, although the idea of a woman called Bowman, who was handy with a hunting bow herself, hooking up with Daryl was priceless to say the least. No, it was more the incongruous Christian name that had thrown them all. Everyone had just assumed ‘Kit’ stood for Katherine or maybe Kristine, good, strong, dependable names but Kirstie??? It was too soft, too girlie. She just didn’t seem like a Kirstie. Maggie guessed that was why she chose to go by Kit.

That said it all about both of them really. They didn’t NEED to get married, who did these days? They could have just exchanged rings on the way back to the farm that day and called each other husband and wife thereafter and who would have argued. Or Kit could have remained ‘Kit’ for the purposes of her vows. Who on earth would have been any the wiser? But they were just too real, too honest for anything but an honest-to-god wedding, a proper ceremony, a legitimate marriage and a real name. Let the shit fall where it may, there’d be no compromising with the Dixons. Do it proper, do it right or don’t bother doin’ it at all.

With a little struggle, Maggie rose from the bench, where the remains of her barbequed hog, provided courtesy of the bride and groom on the eve of their own wedding day no less, was beginning to turn her stomach. The dog escorted her, as she made her waddling way over to the family, gathered around the Dixons, who looked a little less uncomfortable when surrounded by the more familial members of Alexandria.

Time to make them squirm, as she hugged, kissed and congratulated them both. Then it would be time to pointedly waddle off, slowly through the crowd, drawing as many eyes to her stately bulk as she could and giving them her wedding present in the process. A nice big juicy distraction, to allow them a chance to escape.

______________

 

Daryl pulled Kit up short as they got close to the garden gate. They’d run across town from the reception, the moment they’d had the chance. They’d both been happy to let everyone take charge of the wedding arrangements and they’d done everything they’d been expected to do. Alexandria didn’t need them for the after-party.

They’d provided the excuse and stuck around long enough to celebrate, to their own contentment, with the people they cared about. They’d picked at the wedding breakfast, allowed themselves to be photographed, they’d squirmed through the (mercifully short) speeches, they’d cut the cake, danced and thanked just about everyone in town at least once. Thank god for Maggie and her baby bump. They’d seen their chance and taken it. This was their time now.

“What?” Kit asked, worried that Daryl had seen something wrong. She didn’t understand why he’d stopped their progress when they were so close. He pulled her towards him as they caught their breath and reached his hand down to her belly as he claimed a kiss.

“You OK?” He asked, mumbling into her smiling lips.

“Yes,” She purred in response. “We’re fine. It’s early days, I could run for hours…. But I’d rather not.”

“Doc’s here ‘til tomorrow afternoon I heard, we got time to catch hold of him for a few minutes before he goes back I reckon.”

“Hmmm, maybe… if we can drag ourselves out of bed.” She laughed trying to pull him towards the gate.

He didn’t seem to want to move though, stood stock still, an immovable object. Their hands were still held fast, he smiled at her confusion and pulled her close again, with a predatory curl of the lip.

“Wanna do it right.” He whispered in her ear as he swept down and pulled her legs out from under her, to carry her across the threshold.

She laughed in shock and hooked her arms around his neck. “You’re daft you know.” She informed him matter-of-factly “There’s a garden gate, thirty metres of path and three steps up to the decking to navigate before we even get to the threshold.”

“You got no faith in me? Don’t think I can make it?” he asked playfully as they approached the gate.

Kit reached down to un-latch the gate. “Oh I’m sure you can” she purred as Daryl turned to allow her to swing it shut behind them. The dog would make her way home with Aaron and Eric later. “but I’d have been happy with the last few steps and a guarantee that you’re back’s in tip-top condition for what comes after.” She arched an eyebrow and accepted a growling kiss from her new husband.

“Mmmmh, you let me worry about my back tonight Mrs. Dixon.” He smiled as she visibly thrilled at the sound of her new name, stepping up onto the porch of their little home “You got other things to worry about.”

“Oh?” she asked as he stopped at the door to let her open it.

“Like what I have planned for you when I get you outta that ‘perfect’ dress.” He pulled the door fully open with his boot and carried Kit over the threshold.

“Mmmmmh, promises, promises.” She replied, laughing happily in his arms.


	83. Chapter 83

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one. Enjoy!

Five years after that first day in Garvey….

He stood at the door, watching her sleep. She hated it when he did this but he didn’t care. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. He loved to watch her sleep. The peace of it. Life was hard these days. Hard for everyone but especially hard for the mother of three children under five. The woman who’d given birth to his babies needed this rest and he needed to see her getting it.

At the start, they’d made a pact to never go anywhere without the other. Always together on trips to the other communities. She was a good hunter and he’d lose nothing by taking her on his hunts. He was as handy on a run as anyone in Alexandria and she’d lose nothing by taking him on runs. They’d made it clear, once their relationship was common knowledge, that they were now a package deal. Take it or leave it.

When they went outside the walls, they went together and remained within easy reach of each other at all times. When they stayed inside, they always knew exactly where the other would be and what they were doing. If anything happened they’d meet at the assigned spot and face it, whatever it was, together. It was how they functioned and it worked.

It worked (more or less) during those early days, when no one knew yet – well, to be fair he guessed there’d never really been a time when his family didn’t ‘know’. It worked after Daryl had sunk to his knees, in the middle of a jewellery store, in front of a case full of engagement rings. It worked after the announcement. It worked right up to the wedding. It worked until Kit was pregnant.

She fought to keep going out with him for a few months and for a couple, she got her way. But it didn’t last. The first time she had a near miss with a walker the pact was put on hold and had never really resumed. There’d been the occasional day of hunting, the rare trip out to Hilltop or the farm, a run here and there nearby but for the most part Kit stayed within the walls and would do until their children were old enough to take care of themselves physically.

Daryl was glad. He’d loved having her by his side out there watching his back. He’d rather have her by his side, on a run or a hunt, than any other living creature. But he’d also rather have her safe. He knew ‘safe’ was a relative term in this world. He worried as much about her and the kids here, safe in Alexandria, as he knew she did about him when he was out there. God he missed her, when he was out there in the woods or some town, without her by his side.

She’d made the best of it. Couldn’t stand to sit around doing nothing. Daryl figured Kit had never been much of a sitter. Most women had some kind of ‘nesting’ response to being pregnant apparently, but Kit didn’t restrict herself to the house. She’d taken it upon herself to get Alexandria organized too. Her world had shrunk but there was plenty to get involved with. She commandeered a building to set up a school. There weren’t many kids around yet but there were enough and they needed to learn. Not just their letters and numbers but more useful practical skills too.

She hadn’t restricted herself to just the kids either. There were plenty of adults in town with woeful gaps in their survival skill sets. She’d pulled on all of her own knowledge base and her experience but she called in the ‘experts’ in different disciplines too. She’d even bullied him into trying to teach small groups the rudiments of tracking. He had to admit it had paid off. He’d identified a couple of real naturals, who might rival him one day with enough practice.

The radio network made sure that the various ‘teachers’ in other communities could reach out to a wider audience than the kids (or adults) sat in front of them and the more regular visits between communities meant regular opportunities to mix with different people and learn new practical skills. No opportunity was ever wasted.

He’d shaken his head in wonder, as she and her ‘shop’ class had presented their latest projects to the armoury, the week before she gave birth to their first child. Twelve perfectly serviceable home-made bows. She’d seen an article about how to make them from PVC tubing and fiberglass rods in some hunting magazine, at some point during the previous three years and when Kit saw something that might be useful later, that shit stuck in her brain. He’d been so proud of her that day. And every damned day before and since. He smiled at her now, just as proud as ever.  His own beautiful, brave, clever, resourceful, fucking nut-case of a wife.

He’d arrived home an hour earlier, having lobbied hard that they drive the last leg from Hilltop last night instead of overnighting and heading here today. He’d left Carl and Victor, at the gate, to deal with the post-mission debrief. Rick knew where he was if he really wanted him. And if Rick knew what was good for him he’d wait until Daryl came to find him before busting in here. If there was a knock on the door, any time before nine, there’d better have been walkers spotted near the gates for the first time in over a year. Or someone’s hair better be on fire. A real fucking emergency.

He looked at his wife and his heart ached to be in the room with her at last. Three whole weeks had passed since he’d been this close to her. Longest run he’d ever been on and they planned for it to be the last. He was getting too old for this shit and there was plenty of young blood around to take that kind of role now. Daryl planned to spend the remainder of his days within easy reach of his family.

He’d go on short runs to neighbouring communities. He’d hunt, he’d hunt happily and even more so when his kids were old enough to start learning how by his side, along with their mother. But he couldn’t bear the loss of them anymore. Not ever again for so long. The further he’d gone from them, from her, the more his heart had ached. He’d actually thought he might genuinely be having a heart attack at one point. It was definitely time to knock this shit on the head.

When he’d first come through into the garden and seen the little memorial to the dog it had really brought it home to him. That dog had been a huge part of the reason Kit had even dared to enjoy the luxury of following him that day in Garvey. If she hadn’t had that safety net, she probably wouldn’t have risked chasing a stranger with the look of an old friend… the ghost of Daryl Dixon. He owed that dog his life and the lives of his children. She’d meant so much to them all and she’d had a good life here but she was gone in just a few days. An integral part of his own small family was gone and it had made him see that he couldn’t miss any more time with his wife, with his children. The community didn’t need him enough to warrant the personal cost of that.

Walking into the house, he’d gone straight, as planned, for the kids’ room; he’d teared up at the sight of them, curled up safe in their beds.

He’d picked up Bowman first. His first born son was four years old, they’d celebrated his birthday two months before Daryl set out. Kit had made him a bow for his birthday, from para-cord, plastic tubing and a single fiberglass rod. It was still just a toy but it had range and they’d have to be careful to keep any real arrows out of his reach because that thing could do some damage if he used anything but the padding tipped arrows to fire with.

Daryl had loved giving his son his first archery lesson. He’d always thought he’d turn into his own old man somehow, if he ever stupidly got some girl knocked up. But Kit wasn’t some girl and Daryl sure as shit wasn’t his old man. Judith had given him a little confidence that he could be a better man than Will Dixon, a better father but he’d still been nervous before his boy was born. The second he held him in his arms it had all melted away.

“You’re a bloody natural.” Kit had told him and she’d looked at him with such unwavering confidence that he’d never thought to doubt her words, then or since. “Stop it immediately, you’ll make me look like a shit mum by comparison.” She’d looked at them both with unmistakable pride and Daryl was determined to live up to it.

She wasn’t a “shit mum”, she may have no blueprint of her own to go by but neither did Daryl really, none that he’d want to emulate anyway. She was a natural born organizer, she had this ‘mum’ thing down. She’d done what she did best, read up on everything and planned to apply it all, she had it covered and he’d done his best to keep up with the program.

He loved it when she called him Daddy in front of Bo. Her accent made a word that had always carried a note of dread for Daryl as a boy, into something soft and comforting, as well as protective. Bo’s first word had been Dadda. All three of their kids’ first words had been Dadda. Kit had grumbled that it was “supremely unfair” but she’d encouraged them to say it, as often as possible, because she knew how it made him feel. He’d done the same for her, when the boys had finally got the hang of Mama.

He’d passed Bo to Eric at the door and gone back for Kyle. Their boys weren’t even quite eleven months apart. ‘Irish twins’ Kit had called them and they would be thick as thieves when they were older, that was apparent already. Both boys resembled their daddy but they had their mama’s eyes and Daryl figured that could be trouble. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Kit when she turned those eyes on him. Those boys might easily make him into some kind of push-over of a dad with those same eyes.

Eric took the second bundle and warned Daryl that Bo was starting to wake already. He’d told Eric to stay with the boys and keep them busy until he got there. Then he’d returned for his princess.

Daryl and Kit had both been shocked by the first pregnancy. They hadn’t been as careful as they could have been but they’d figured they were both old enough not to be super fertile anyway. It was stupid really but neither of them had really thought about getting pregnant, as a genuine possibility, until it happened. The second pregnancy had been breathtakingly unlucky-slash-lucky. Neither of them had known that Kit would be at her most fertile, a few short weeks after giving birth to Bo and the ONE time they’d had a condom split mid-flow had fallen right in that window.

After Kyle’s difficult birth, when he’d feared that he’d not only lose their baby but might also lose the love of his life, Daryl had been afraid to go near Kit until she was well past the ‘danger zone’. When they finally reconnected physically, they’d decided that they would be extra careful from now on and they had been. It hadn’t prevented further pregnancies though. It was the way of it now, condoms, the pill, none of it was infallible anymore. Even 'double bagging it' was no guarantee. Condoms degraded over time and splits became more common, pills lost their potency, everything had passed its sell-by-date years ago. The only things that hadn’t, apparently, were Kit and Daryl.

Kit lost the first one at about two months gone. She’d only barely been aware that she was even pregnant before she’d lost it but it didn’t make it any easier. Neither Kit nor Daryl had ever had any great ambition to be parents, hadn’t really ever thought about it at all until they’d met, had both been shit-scared at the prospect in fact but each baby was a part of them both. A physical proof of their love for each other. They loved their Kids because they were part of each other and losing one, even at such an early stage, was hard. Kit had thought the miscarriage might be heralding that her body was not up to the job anymore and had hoped that the menopause would arrive soon and put an end to the whole worry.

That’s what they’d thought Iona was. Kit had stopped bleeding but she didn’t feel the same as she had with the other pregnancies, so they’d put it down to the change and been glad that there’d be no more babies to lose. Kit hardly showed at all for the first four months and it was only when Iona started to move and kick that they realized that they had another ‘accident’ on the way.

They’d made the most of that last pregnancy. five months of freedom from worry about getting pregnant because that horse had already bolted. They’d agreed that once the baby was born there’d be no more vaginal sex at all until Kit had stopped bleeding for a full year. They loved their children dearly but each one was a risk. To Daryl it was an unacceptable risk. He couldn’t live through another two days like Kyle’s birth. The miracle of both he and Kit surviving it hadn’t mitigated his blood curdling fear of a repeat performance.

Although it went without saying that they didn’t bear repeating, Daryl had never been so glad of a mistake as he was with the safe, live births of each of his children. Bo had been a glorious surprise gift, Kyle had been a hard won victory but Iona had still been special in her own right.

He loved them all equally as much but each one was an individual, each one affected him differently. Bo was his eldest son and first born, he’d scared the shit out of Daryl with every ‘first’ and made him prouder than he’d ever felt he’d have any right to be. Kyle was his second son, his mirror image and he felt protective of the boy, wanting to make sure he never wanted for love or care, as Daryl himself had done. But Iona… Iona was his little girl. His princess. His angel.

Unlike the boys, she resembled her mama but she had his eyes. Daryl had his own mama’s eyes, so staring at his daughter was like a window into that lost part of his childhood. That part that had loved him unconditionally, whatever her faults and had never meant him harm, though she hadn’t been brave or strong enough to save him from it. In Iona’s innocent gaze he felt nothing but second chances, hope and love radiating through him. Everyone in town had pitied the poor boys that would try to date her in years to come and they were right to. This little girl would always be Daryl Dixon’s baby girl, however grown up she got. He pitied the poor, quite possibly still unborn, little bastards himself. Wouldn’t stop him whooping some ass, when the time came, though.

As he plucked his daughter from her cot, he grabbed the baby bag by the bed, where his sleeping wife lay. Iona was out for the count and he examined the changes in her, as he walked back to the main house with her little body safe in his arms. She’d grown like a weed. Three weeks and he’d missed so much, he could see the difference etched in her face and her stronger limbs. She’d been able to stand and take tottering steps before he left but he just knew that she’d found her feet and learned to make use of them, since he’d held her last. He wondered if she’d learned to call Kit Mama yet. He hoped not. Selfishly, he wanted to be there the first time she did that. He wanted to see Kit’s face.

He’d spent a few precious minutes with his boys, as uncle Eric settled Iona in the cot they kept for her in the main house. The man was a godsend to Kit and Daryl. A far better uncle than his own blood could ever have been. Both he and Aaron had loved their kids like family from day one. They WERE family. Their two homes and the garden they shared had become a kind of commune. Daryl had extended the summer house to provide the sleeping quarters that his growing family needed but they lived in the garden and in the main house. None of the doors were ever locked. They all lived together and shared the care of the children.

The boys had groggily hugged and kissed their father, asked him all kinds of stupid questions and tried to tell him everything that had happened to them in the past three weeks, with varying levels of coherence and success. Daryl loved listening to their pointless, circular prattle. It didn’t require patience. He certainly wasn’t his own father. Will Dixon had never had time for nonsense. Daryl was glad that his daddy wasn’t around to infect his grandsons with his own malignant disease. Merle would have been better. He would have tried but though Daryl would always regret the loss of his brother, he was also sure that it would be easier to bring up his two willful, energetic boys the RIGHT way, without Merle’s own brand of unconsciously toxic influence.

Eric had made them both a coffee as the boys got it out of their systems. He’d been happy to get up early, when Daryl arrived and take the kids, so Daryl and Kit could have a couple of hours together. He knew better than most, how strong their connection was, how little time they had alone together and how much they needed it. He also, selfishly, just loved having the kids to himself.

As the boys’ interest in their father began to shift to their stomachs, Eric had taken over and drawn their attention to him. Daryl had waved his thanks from the door, as Eric engaged their help in making some version of pancakes and made his way home, to the warmth and comfort of the sleeping woman waiting in his bed.

She moaned and turned over in her sleep. Her bright red hair reflecting the first rays of sun pushing through the curtains. He hadn’t been sure she’d want to dye her hair when he’d brought the first box home. Had thought she might think he was trying to control her or force his own taste on her. He should have known she’d understand. She ‘got’ him. She knew he’d just seen the box and thought of her. Thought that SHE might want to express herself that way. She knew he didn’t care what she did either way, even before he told her so. Damn if he didn’t like it now though. It was just so her and Daryl found everything that WAS Kit, damn sexy.

As she moved in the bed she pulled down the cover a little and Daryl could see she was wearing one of his shirts. He knew she did that when he was away. He’d even caught her wearing one before but never like this, while she was actually asleep, otherwise naked, in their bed.

He smiled at that. At her. Why did she love him? He knew she did. Knew it in his bones, that she adored him, as much as he did her. But he could never fathom the why of it and he could never work out what he’d done to deserve her. He knew he’d be wearing the ass out of that shirt, next time he went on an overnight hunt or visit to another settlement though – the thought of her sleeping in it would keep him going through anything.

As she slept, he unpacked a large duffel bag in the kitchen. There was more where this had come from but Daryl had brought home a sample of the bounty she was owed. Her gift to every community south of here, that they’d connected with via the radio network, had been the address of a lock up. Each of the stores of food and supplies she had compiled, in each of the towns she’d dredged on her path towards Alexandria, had been gifted to their closest community. Each store held at least two years’ worth of supplies for one person and usually far more, a nice little wind-fall for any sized community.

But the older stores, the ones closest to her starting point. Those ones held a greater personal treasure  for Kit. The Air Force base had gifted her with more than just equipment, training opportunities and a dog. Some of those flyboys and their wives had been Anglophiles in the extreme. Kit had left that place with three full crates of tea and chocolate from home. She couldn’t carry it all with her indefinitely. She needed the space in the landy for other things. So she’d kept the chocolate and enough tea to keep her going (if rationed well) for a couple of years and gradually deposited the rest in her first few caches.

All of the communities, they’d shared the whereabouts of Kit’s treasure-troves with, knew the story and unbeknown to her, they had all passed her tastes of home back up the line. She’d survived the last three years or so, on whatever generic version of ‘English Breakfast’ tea they had found nearby but she’d have the real thing from now on. He’d brought her home a single box of something called Typhoo, with two hundred and forty bags of “pure heaven” for her. That alone, he knew, could easily last her more than a year. Back at the store-rooms though, there were ten identical boxes, another six similarly sized boxes of Tetley and four huge catering sized bags of Yorkshire Tea. No one else in town gave enough of a shit about tea to argue with her having this luxury to herself. She might want to be fair and split it with Lisa but either way she was set for life. Daryl couldn’t wait to see her face when he’d had his way with her and brought her breakfast in bed to recover.

He heard movement from the bedroom again. She was waking. He’d moved the kids over to the main house as quietly as he could manage but she was used to being mauled awake by at least one of their offspring by now. She’d be awake soon and there was nothing he could do to extend her peace a little longer. Now it was time to shatter it completely.

He stripped down slowly, never tearing his eyes from her face and joined her under the covers. Hands shaking, with joy and anticipation, he began to unbutton his own shirt, as he leaned in close to breathe her scent and feel the warmth of her body.

“Mmmmhhh, Daryl?” she moaned, half in a dream. He hoped he starred in hers as often as she showed up in his, especially when he was away.

As the fog of her dream began to clear and she began to realise she was awake, she registered the sensation of his lips on her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. He was home. Here, in their bed. “Thank god he’s alive.” She thought, clinging to him with a rush of relief. “Why is it so quiet?” she moaned, as he continued to kiss her softly “Where are the kids?”

“The house,” he breathed into her ear “took ‘em over to Eric, so you could get some rest.”

“You didn’t need to do that. They’ll want to be with you.” She murmered, as he engulfed her mouth with his own and worked the last shirt button free. She loved the feel of his kiss, always had. The heat of his mouth. His tongue exploring. His lips locked on hers.

He must have cleaned up a little before he came to bed because he smelled of himself, rather than three weeks on the road but he hadn’t taken the time to shave. She didn’t mind. The ticklish bristles of his scruffy beard reminded her of those early days. That first kiss in a wardrobe. She was so relieved to have him here. She loved it all. Her mothering instincts and her brain familiarly ‘parked’ as she gave herself up to her senses and the intimate touch of her husband.

He let her go and smiled into her eyes. “Really…. I just wanted to get some.” They both laughed at that. It was so rare to have time together like this. No kids. And he’d been gone for three weeks. Kit wanted to ‘get some’ too.

“Did you miss me?” he asked playfully, pulling on the fabric of his shirt, hanging from her otherwise naked body. She smiled at the ridiculous question and pulled him towards her, resuming their kiss in answer, with rising passion, as his hands began to re-familiarise themselves with her breasts.

To be in his hands, helpless in his power. It was like a dream come true after three weeks without him. Those hands had saved her life, countless times, fought for her, killed for her, comforted her, wiped her tears, refused to let her fall. Those hands had given her more reassurance than a million words from any other person she’d ever known. Those hands were her safe haven and the ring on his finger symbolized that they were HER hands as much as they were his.

There were rules now, when it came to sex. Condoms couldn’t be trusted anymore, even if used religiously, not that they had ever been particularly good at remembering before her first pregnancy, when it might have made a difference. The pill wasn’t much better and was harder to find these days, so they had to be rationed out. For those who wanted to avoid any more ‘surprises’, sex had to be a little different now.

Kit was lucky, she was well into her forties now and it wouldn’t be long before birth control was unnecessary for them. She didn’t want to get Daryl’s hopes up but she was already well into her fifth month without a period and THIS time she definitely wasn’t pregnant. She found herself praying for the menopause sometimes. Desperate for the satisfying pressure in her vagina, the flutter of her walls against his length, as she came apart. She missed that kind of sex but she’d hardly consider herself hard-done-by.

There were plenty of other ways to get each other off and over the years they’d learned to take aspects of their previous sex-life to the next level. Those hands of his had come into their own, as elements which had been foreplay before were now the ‘main event’. And what an event. Daryl had become the bloody Grand Master of the screaming orgasm, with only the use of his mouth and two fingers. She wasn’t too shabby herself and was quite capable of reducing him to a quivering wreck in her turn. It had been three weeks and boy did she plan to have her turn.

It was his turn now though and she shuddered with anticipation of what he had in store for her. She knew he’d been thinking about it for hours, days. All the way home he would have thought about his plans for her body. What he wanted to do to her and exactly what he would make her feel when he got those hands on her at last. She could swear she’d heard it, as an undertone in his voice, the last time she’d spoken to him on the HAM two days ago.

He’d obviously put a lot of thought into making sure he had her to himself this morning and with a shiver of excitement she realized he planned to take his time. She gave herself up to his care now – trusting the plan. She wouldn’t be disappointed. Daryl didn’t know how to disappoint her. He’d never managed it so far and she suspected he never would.

He was the decent man she’d taken him for all those years ago and he’d never let her down. Her guardian angel, the love of her life, the father of her children. The only man she had ever loved, ever contemplated loving. She’d never dreamed of finding him, never even considered there was something or someone out there TO find for her. She thanked her lucky stars every day for Daryl Dixon, as she knew he did for her.

Letting her hand trail down his body, she found the faint, long-faded scar of an old knife wound on his thigh. Caressing the skin, she looked into the eyes of the best man she’d ever known, here, where he belonged, in her bed. With a joyous smile, she whispered huskily, “You’re home at last.”

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's tweaked very slightly but more or less the same as the original. I hope you all liked the story. It's been fun writing it and thank you so much to those who've commented and kept me going, even through the rough patches :)


	84. Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was just a little orphan chapter I've been fiddling with. I thought I'd pop it up as an extra. Hope you like it.

She was grey, almost translucent and her skin was clammy and cold. She wasn’t like his Kit at all. His beautiful, perfect, precious wife.  It was like all of the ‘Kit-ness’ was draining out of her. All the life. Daryl could barely breathe, barely think, barely keep his blood pumping around his own body, he was in such terror. He just couldn’t lose her. He didn’t want to lose the baby either, of course not but he physically COULDN’T lose its mother.

He heard Bo crying in the next room and it shocked him back to the here and now. It wasn’t Bo in the next room. Bo was right here. Having only recently found his feet and starting to be a danger to himself, without supervision, Daryl snapped back into reality just in time to stop his eldest son dropping himself head first off the edge of the porch steps.

“Woah there boy.” He called out reflexively, catching his son and swinging him up into his arms in a panic. The new ‘toddler’ just giggled and bounced around in his daddy’s grip, smiling at him with total trust. “Damn boy, you’re gon’ be the death of me.” Daryl shook his head with relief but couldn’t help smiling at his unrepentant offspring, as he brought the boy back into the house.

Having recovered from the scare and the associated adrenalin hit, Daryl put Bo back in the safety of his play pen. For how much longer this flimsy looking plastic construction was going to be able to contain a Dixon boy, he had no idea but he figured he should make the most of it for now. He tried to interest Bo in a toy train but found that the apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree… either tree he guessed. Bo had been given several ‘joke’ presents by Daryl’s family members when he was born. His crib and play pen were littered with stuffed toy representations of every kind of small woodland creature he’d ever hunted in his life and Damn it if Bo’s favourite of these… his ‘go to’ animal, wasn’t the fucking squirrel Rick had handed over the day he was born, with a big shit eating grin on his stupid fucking face.

With his son’s attention safely turned to his favourite stuffed animal, Daryl made his way over to the bedroom door. He picked up the mug of tea he’d been making, as he’d got carried away with his unfortunately timed daydream… more like day-mare. Cradling the tea, he leant against the door jamb and took in the view.

Kit. Looking like a fucking goddess as always. She wouldn’t think so, maybe she was right, maybe he WAS the only one who saw her that way. He didn’t think so. He’d caught other guys looking at her. He knew she’d be getting offers if he weren’t around and he knew she’d be completely ignoring them if that ever happened. He didn’t care what kind of rose tinted, hallucinatory view she accused him of having though. She was good. A good person, a great influence, an amazing wife, a perfect mother to his boys and as far as he could see, damn fine to look at too.

He watched his boy, barely three months old now, suckling at her breast as she sang softly to him. He’d never heard the song before she started singing it to their boys but it sounded sweet to his ear. Sounded familiar, maybe his own mama had sung him a few lullabys when he was little after all. He couldn’t remember none of ‘em well enough to try and sing ‘em but they rang some kind of soothing bell to him. He didn’t remember ever trying to sing to his sister… maybe some humming but mostly he’d just talked to her, she’d seemed happy with that. Judith too. Beth had sung old country songs to her at the prison. He smiled at the memory and at the scene before him now.

Damn he felt lucky. Lucky just to be alive, when so many good people just weren’t. Lucky to have found the friends he had around him, the family they’d become. Lucky to be considered ‘someone’, when, in fact he wasn’t no one at all before. Lucky to have found Kit, won Kit, love and be loved by Kit. Lucky to have their children but above all, luckier than ever to still have their mother, after almost losing her during Kyle’s birth.

Kyle un-latched as he fell asleep. She smiled at the boy as she covered herself and placed his little body over her shoulder to burp him. As she did so she looked up and caught sight of the man watching her from the door and her smile broadened. Daryl felt like a fucking god, basking in the light of that smile…. Still… it was years now and she still made him feel that way. So fucking lucky.

“He always falls asleep!” She shook her head with a little smiling laugh, as she rose and made her way to the cot.

“Bo must be ready for his nap now too?” She asked, placing him gently in the cot. She turned to find Daryl had made his way to her already. He could be bloody quiet when he wanted to be, her lovely husband.

“He’s settlin’ down in his play pen.” He replied, handing her the mug in his hand. She gasped with joy and almost had half of her tea drunk down before he spoke again.

“Hmmm, that boy don’t have no appreciation o’ the finer things in life.” He mumbled, with a soft growl Kit hadn’t heard for a long time. That was surprising enough but for the first time in weeks,…months, he seemed to be allowing his eyes to wander over their favourite old haunts. He wrapped his arms around her, on his own initiative and without her ‘needing’ the comfort. “Can’t even imagine wantin’ ta sleep ‘f I was in his shoes.” He moaned, quickly sweeping his gaze down to her barely covered breasts, before pressing his lips to her neck and lingering there, in a way she’d missed for so, so long.

Kit abandoned the mug in her hand to the changing table by the bed. Her hands were beginning to shake anyway and she hoped for a taste she desired far more. She reached up to bury her fingers in Daryl’s long hair, earning another soft growl and a rush of warm breath on her neck, as they both sighed into the embrace. As she pressed her soft body into his strong frame, she felt something else she’d missed.

“Oh,” She whispered, half in shock and half in playfulness. “Hello sailor!” She almost giggled. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”

She kicked herself a little when Daryl immediately stopped kissing her throat and she felt a little sigh of hot breath against her ear. She closed her eyes and prayed, gripping him a little tighter. “Stay” she ordered in her head, trying to use some kind of bloody Jedi mind trick on him or something. “Talk to me.”

Daryl pulled back a little to face her. He couldn’t quite meet her eye. “Mmm sorry sweetheart.”

Guilt. Always guilt. She’d never understood why. As far as she could tell, he had the least to be guilty about of any man alive, that she knew of. Damage done too early to be rectified now, she assumed. She wished his dad would come back to life, just for five minutes, so she could give him a piece of her mind and send him back to hell with a flea in one ear and an ice pick in the other, courtesy of his daughter-in-law.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” She smiled back at him. “I just missed you.”

“I know but I don’t want you thinkin’ it’s anythin’ to do with you, you know.”

Michonne, thought Kit. Must have been Michonne. She’s been loudly discussing the corrosive effects of dwindling body confidence, post-partum, or some such bollocks, where he can easily overhear. Nicely done. She decided she owed that woman an apple crumble.

“I know.” She soothed, stroking his worried brow.

“I love ya.” Daryl went on. “Love everythin’ about ya. Every inch of y’body, an’ everythin’ that y’are.”

Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden. She knew his distance had nothing to do with any lack of love for her and she knew he still wanted her but it didn’t hurt to hear it. She tried not to let irrational baby-brained ideas take over her head, as much as possible but until he said the words, she hadn’t realised that she had… in fact… as well as in Michonne’s fictitious, provoking, musings… been just a little bit worried that he wasn’t physically attracted to her anymore.

“It was traumatic for all of us, I know.” She whispered back. “Poor little Kyle broke a bloody arm on the way out and that was probably the least of it.” She laughed, to stop herself sobbing at the affect Daryl’s declaration had had on her.

“I know. I ain’t bin helpin’ … keepin’ my distance. Mmm sorry I ain’t bin close to ya Kit.” He looked her in the eye. “I’ve wanted to… so many times I’ve wanted to hold ya, kiss ya but I bin scared what that might lead to.” He looked over at the cot. “Can’t go through that again sweetheart.” He looked back quickly, needing to explain. “I love him. God, I swear I love that boy to distraction but I can’t get you pregnant again Kit. Can’t live another two days like that. Can’t watch you hangin’ on by a thread. I love my boys but I don’t ever want another one. I want you. I need you. I can live forever without another child, could easily have lived without the two we got before I met ‘em…… God….. that sounds awful…. I’m the worst father in the world.”

“No!” She forced him to look at her. “You’re not… Daryl you’re not.” She had his attention. “I know what you mean and you’re not a terrible father, I know what you mean and you’re right…. I love you too remember and I don’t know what I’d do if you were in the state you must’ve seen me in. I know why you’ve been distant, I get it and you’re right. We can’t get pregnant again.” He nodded and pressed his head against hers.

“But I want you.” Kit tilted her face upwards and claimed a light kiss. “I need you to hold me Daryl, I need you to touch me, kiss me, love me. I never had any of that before I met you and I could have lived without it until the day I died but you’ve ruined me now… I need you.”

She felt the growl before she heard it. It radiated through him and crossed over to shudder through her core. It all happened in such a blur of need, that she had no idea if it had been him or if she’d stripped off her dressing gown herself. If she’d pulled off his shirt and pants or if he’d shaken them off as he’d laid them both down on the bed behind her. All she could think about was the taste of his lips, his tongue, the skin of his throat and chest. All she could feel were his hands on her desperate, willing flesh and his scruffy stubble moving over her soft, sensitive skin.

By the time she recovered herself to take note of her surroundings, she was on her back with her husband’s lips locked on her collar bone, his hand behind her head, cradling her as she moaned and his other hand already between her legs. He was expertly rubbing her clit with his thumb as the other fingers deftly explored the new territory.

She expected he’d find things a little different down there now. She’d never had the most ‘tidy’ vulva but her labia were definitely more pronounced now, making their lack of symmetry even more obvious than before. Other than that though, she figured she’d probably gotten off pretty lightly and had certainly had plenty of time to recover after the birth.

She knew Daryl wouldn’t care about the changes. She knew now that he still wanted her. Still desired her new body, just as much as he had the old. She knew. And he was absolutely right to be worried about where their passion for each other could lead. She hoped his head had been more in the game than hers had; because if it had been up to her to throw the breaks on, there’d have been no chance. She could have been skewered on the end of his cock, with a quart of baby-juice getting squirted directly into her cervix by now and so far, she’d have done nothing to object.

Half an hour and three orgasms later, two for Kit and one explosive one for Daryl, they lay in each other’s arms, naked, knackered and dozing as they recovered.

Kit’s bionic ‘mum senses’ kicked in, at the first faint sound of Bo beginning to fuss in the next room. He was coming around from his nap. They’d have ten minutes or so until he was conscious enough to need attention and then half an hour of clingy ‘mum time’ before he was ready for playing again. Kit licked her lips and smiled at the taste of Daryl’s semen, still clinging to her mouth. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it until she’d got more than she could handle, just a few minutes ago.

She looked over at her lover, asleep beside her. She’d lost count of the nights she’d spent hours, watching him sleep as she fed Kyle, trying to work out how to reach him. At the start she’d had her own recovery and Kyle’s to worry about. Then she’d had to make up some time with Bo too. It was so long just trying to get through the days, lurching from one bodily function to the next, with two babies in the house. It had taken her a while to realise that something had shifted in Daryl. He was still there. He hadn’t run. He was doing his bit. Carrying more than his share to begin with. But he was distant.

Kit guessed she’d always known why, on some level but she hadn’t really known how to address it, how to fix it. How to even think about starting to fix it. In the end he’d just needed a little push and a little prodding on his weak spot, from an outside source. Kit wasn’t entirely sure she approved of Michonne using his love for her and his misplaced guilt about how his distance might be making her feel about herself but she had to hand it to the woman. She got results. Kit decided that in this case, she didn’t really mind how the sausage was made… as long as she was getting some sausage.

Grinning at her own joke, she teased his nipple with her thumb. There was no way he was sleeping through that but at least it would be a nice way to wake up.

He woke with a smile for the first time in what felt like forever. He hadn’t realised what a weight it had been… not being on the same page with Kit. He felt light as a feather now, as he woke to the sensation of her rubbing his nipple and kissing her way up his torso. Damn she had a world class set of lips on her and damn if he hadn’t missed the feeling of them on his skin, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, wrapping themselves tight around his dick and sucking his balls dry. Yep… he’d sure as shit missed that.

“Our eldest is starting to fuss next door.” She whispered, finally reaching his lips. “Sounds like he’s got one of his teddies for comfort for now.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “’S that fuckin’ squirrel.” He moaned.

“Well at least it’s not the bloody snake.” They both laughed at that. “I’ll have to go and see to him in a minute.” Kiss.

“Mmmh. Yeah, an’ I need to get over and help finish off repairin’ that new truck. Gotta be on the road by tomorra.” Kiss.

“We’ll miss you.” Kiss.

“I’ll be back by five or so.” Kiss.

“Promise?” Kiss.

“Definitely before six…. I promise.” Kiss.

One last wet kiss and Kit pushed herself up to kneel next to him on the bed, reaching over to retrieve her dressing gown. Daryl sighed sadly at the loss of her mouth and her searching fingers but watched her naked beauty for a few precious seconds before it was gone. He enjoyed the sensation of rubbing her silky soft thigh absently as he drank her in.

“I love you.” He said.

She flicked her hair free of the robe, now clothing her and looked back to meet his adoring gaze with one of her own.

“I love you.” She answered, leaning down for another kiss.

She moved to the side of the bed and opened the drawer. “We need to get these two down early tonight, so be ready for bed-time duties when you get home.” She said, matter-of-factly.

Daryl had the question on the tip of his tongue but he stopped himself when he saw what she’d retrieved from the drawer. He had the feeling he was about to find out the answer.

“Vaginal sex is off the table now, other than special occasions and I think you’ll agree we need to be double bagging from now on, even then?” He nodded his agreement.

“So tonight we’re going to try out something new, because I don’t think we’re going to be satisfied with oral forever.” Daryl’s eyebrows met quizzically as he eyed both her and the contents of her hand.

“We’re going to try out anal and see how we like that I think.” She nodded decisively, avoiding his eyes, although her heart was fluttering with nerves. Daryl’s surprise was evident but he let her go on. “And I’m going to charge up ‘Dishy Daryl’ too, in case I need some help to make it ….” She struggled to find the right word. “Nice?” She decided.

Daryl still looked a little dubious. “OK?” she asked, trying to be brave and assertive but losing a little confidence herself with every passing second.

Daryl sat up and shifted closer. “If that’s what you want sweetheart, you know I’m in.” He responded, reaching for those lips. “We’ll take it slow an’ gentle.” He assured her.

“Sounds like a plan.” She smiled.

Kiss.  

   


End file.
